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I went in after this little cat. 



p 12. 



/ 



MEAT-EATERS, 



SOME ACCOUNT 



OF THEIR 



HAUNTS AND HABITS. 



BY THE AriHOR OF "IRISH AMY," ETC. 




.^i^^- 



AMERICAN SUNDAY-SCHOOL UNION. 



1122 CHESTNUT STREET, PHILADELPHIA. 



QL-/3 



1 



Entered «cco, ding to Act of Congress, in the year 1858, hy the 

AMERICAN SUNDAY-SCHOOL UNION, 

in the Clerk's Office of the District Cmrt of the Eastern District of 
Pennsylvania. 



j8(^ No hooks are published by the American Sunday-School Uniox 
without the sanction of the Ccmmittee of Publication, consisting of four- 
teen members, from the following denominations of Christians, viz. : Bop- 
tid, Methodist, Omgregatimial, Episcopal, Presbyterian, Lutheran, and 
Reformed Dutch. Not more than three of the members can be of the same 
denomination, and no book can be published to which any member of the 
Committee shall object. 




CONTENTS. 



CHAPTER I. 
Introduction 9 



CHAPTER II. 
The Domestic Cat 31 

CHAPTER III. 
The Smaller Spotted Cats 64 

CHAPTER IV. 
The Leopards 94 

CHAPTER V. 
The Puma and Jaguar 137 

CHAPTER VI. 

The Tiger AND Lion 186 

1* 5 



6 .CONTENTS. 



CHAPTER VII. p^^^^ 

The Wolves 253 



CHAPTER VIII. 
The Dogs 291 

CHAPTER IX. 
Wild Dogs, Jackals, and Hyenas 332 

CHAPTER X. 
The Bears 375 

CHAPTER XL 
Conclusion 419 



ILLUSTEATIONS. 



PAGB 

Frontispiece — The Rescued Kitten 1 

The Domestic Cat 33 

The Scare-Crow 46 

The Wild-Cat 55 

The Lynx 57 

The Ocelot 76 

The Leopard* 96 

The Puma 112 

The Chetah 127 

The Panther 152 

The Jaguar 177 

The Tiger 194 

The Lion 220 

The Wolf 253 

The Dog 291 

The Hyena 364 

The White Bear 381 

The Black Bear 398 

The Otter and Coatimondi 457 



*Tlie Leopard, the Cougar and the Panther are names applied to 
several animals of the same general character, but inhabiting different 
parts of the globe, and distinguished by some peculiarity of colour, form, 
or habits. The difference between them is, however, so slight, that they 
seem to be frequently confounded. 

7 



MEAT-EATERS. 



CHAPTER I. 



INTRODUCTION. 



Miss Winston was sitting before her 
little table one afternoon in the beginning 
of summer, reading and knitting at the 
same time. She was an excellent knitter; 
and it was a constant source of amusement 
and wonder to her nephews and nieces to 
watch her flying fingers, which never hesi- 
tated or dropped a stitch or made a mistake, 
though she hardly ever took her eyes from 
the book except to narrow or count her 
stitches. The little table was drawn into 
the recess of a deep, low window, which 
opened upon a pretty high terrace with 
here and there a flower-bed set in the green 

grass. Beyond this terrace was a garden; 

9 



10 THE PLAY-GROUND. 



and beyond tliis again was a green field, 
which reached to the river and was kept 
smooth by a small flock of sheep which 
pastured there. There were several large 
trees in this meadow, besides a pretty brook ; 
and at one end was a large rock, or rather 
pile of rocks, the top of which was nearly 
as high as the terrace upon which the house 
stood. All these things made it a very fa- 
vourite play-ground for the children of the 
family ; and at this time in the afternoon 
they were usually to be seen either under 
the trees or on the rocks, or else about the 
door of the iieat little log cabin which their 
grandfather had built for them near the 
brook, or under the shadow of one of the 
great trees which I have mentioned. 

Just at this time, however, there were 
none of them visible. They had all gone 
for a walk, intending to take the village in 
their way and do some errands for their 
aunt. 

Miss Winston counted her stitches, and 
then, folding her work and laying it in her 
book for a mark, she arose, and, taking her 
crutch, (for she was lame,) she stepped out 
upon the platform under the window and 



AN INCIDENT. 11 



stood looking over the landscape, which 
was in all its summer beauty. The river 
w^as high and clear, and ran with a rippling 
sound, w^hich mixed pleasantly with the 
noise of the wind in the woods, the lowing 
of the cattle and all the other country- 
sounds which seem to make the stillness 
only more quiet instead of breaking it. 
Presently, however, other sounds met the 
ear than those of the river and the cattle. 
A clamour of girlish and boyish voices, ac- 
companied by the barking of a dog and 
the pitiful mews, or rather squalls, of a 
frightened kitten, caused Miss Winston to 
start, and to hasten, as fast as her lame steps 
could carry her, towards the end of the ter- 
race, that she might see from whence the 
sounds proceeded, and where she arrived 
just in time to greet the party who were 
coming round the corner of the house. She 
uttered an exclamation of alarm as they 
met her view. The tallest boy of the party — 
a lad about fifteen years old — came first, 
w^et from head to foot, his face bruised, 
dirty and covered with blood, and carrjdng 
in his arms a little gray and w^hite kitten as 
wet as himself, which was squalling at the 



12 THE ABUSED KITTEN. 



very top of its voice. Another boy fol- 
lowed, holding by the collar a great dog, 
also dripping wet, but in the highest spirits. 
Two little girls completed the group, of 
whom the elder was trying to comfort and 
quiet the younger, who w^as crying bitterly. 

"What in the world is the matter?" asked 
Miss Louisa. ''Have you been in the water, 
Dick?" 

"Yes, aunt," replied Richard, holding up 
the kitten: "I went in after this little cat." 

"The boj'S put her in an old bowl in 
Short's pond, and set their dogs on her," 
said Annie, the oldest girl, taking up the 
story, "and Dick went in and got her. We 
sent Bruno in first ; but she w^as afraid of 
him, and the other dogs fought him : so 
Dick went in himself and pulled her out." 

"And Jack Short threw a stone at Dick 
and made that great mark on his face," said 
Sidnej^; "and they wanted to throw more; 
but Mr. Short's man came out and stopped 
them. And then Daisy was so scared about 
Dick and the kitten that she cried. "Wasn't 
it too bad, aunt, to treat a poor kitten so ?" 
And Sidney, w^ho had reproved Daisy for 
crying, began to cry himself. 



THE ABUSED KITTEN. 18 



Miss Winston did not wait to hear more. 
She gave the kitten into Annie's charge, 
and hurried. Dick into the house to change 
his clothes and to examine the wound on 
his face, which looked quite formidable. 
She was very much relieved to find that it 
was only a bad bruise and had not touched 
his eye, though it had narrow^ly missed it; 
and when she had made him comfortable 
she went to the nursery, whither she had 
sent the other children. Here she found 
Annie with the kitten in her lap, and the 
other children standing by, looking on with 
faces of the deepest interest as she carefully 
rubbed and dried its wet and dirty form 
with a piece of warm flannel, — an operation 
w^hich the kitten seemed to enjoy very much, 
for she purred, and combed with her claw^s 
the piece of blanket on which she was 
lying, and looked up into Annie's face with 
half-shut eyes, as if she were very thankful. 
Presently she jumped down, and went of 
her own accord to the bowl of milk pro- 
vided for her; and, after drinking as much 
as she wanted, she began to explore the 
room, examining the furniture, as is the 
custom of cats brought into strange places. 



14 THE RECOA'ERY. 



Daisy clapped her hands for joy. " She will 
live ! I do believe she will live, after all ! 
Won't she, Sidney?" 

^'Of course she will," returned Sidney, 
in rather patronizing tones. ^^It isn't so 
easy to kill a cat, I can tell you. People 
say they have nine lives, because they are 
so hardy. Isn't she prett}", aunt?" 

" Very pretty," replied Miss Louisa. '' If 
she will stay, she will come in very nicely 
to fill poor Jenny's place." 

" She will never fill Jenny's place," said 
Annie, rather sorrowfully. " I shall never 
like another cat as I did her ! — never!" 

'' Just as you said when Jessie died and 
when Punch was lost," returned Sidney; 
" and yet you thought just as much of the 
others. I would never have a pet if I were 
going to feel so about it, because something 
always does happen to them, sooner or later. 
But how is Dick, aunt? Is his face very 
bad?" 

" I think he will have a black eye for a 
few days, perhaps, but nothing more. And 
now, Annie, I want you to tell me how all 
this happened; for I have no clear idea 
about it yet." 



Annie's account of the matter. 15 



Miss Winston asked Annie instead of 
Sidney, not because Sidney was not equally 
truthful, but because Annie was so much 
cooler and less excitable that her stories 
were usually more intelligible. All the 
children were aware of this ; and Annie was 
always the one called upon to give an ac- 
count of any of their adventures. 

"We had been walking up the hill above 
the saw-mill, to see if we could find any 
lupins in blossom," Annie began, ''and we 
had got a great many ; and then we thought 
we would come round by the mill-pond, 
because Daisy wanted to see the frogs and 
fishes. You know you said we might go 
that way if Dick went with us." 

''I know," said Miss Louisa. 

" Well, when we came round from behind 
the mill we saw Short's boy, and two 
others, shouting and setting their dogs on 
something in the water ; and presently we 
saw that it was this kitten in an old wooden 
bowl. Dick sent Bruno in after her first ; but 
she was as much afraid of him as she was 
of the others, and the other dogs attacked 
him, so he could not do any thing. So Dick 
jumped in himself, with all his clothes on. 



16 A QUESTION OF DISCIPLINE. 



and brouorht the little thins; out. The boya 
tried to set the dogs on him, and then they 
began to abuse him and ns, and finally 
Jack Short threw a stone and hit Dick's 
face and almost knocked him down. Then 
Sidney pulled oft' his jacket and w^as going 
to fight Jack; but that tall man in the mill 
came out and sent the boys ofl:* and told 
Jack he would tell his father. So we came 
home as fast as we could." 

''I'll pay him oft' some day," muttered 
Sidney, clenching his fist; ''I'll teach him 
to throw stones at girls !" 

" Yes ! you would look w^ell fighting Jack 
Short!" said Annie. " I would not touch 
him with one of his fiither's boards." 

" Upon my word, Annie, I don't know 
which to admire most, — your spirit or Sid- 
ney's," said Miss Winston. "Do you think, 
Sidney, that fighting him would be very 
likely to teach him to be gentlemanly and 
humane ?" 

" I don't know, aunt," replied Sidney, 
blushing; " but I know if any one acts so 
I always do want to figlit hini, — especially if 
he abuses any little helpless thing. I never 



A QUESTION OF MORALS. 17 



see a man abuse a horse without wanting 
to knock him over." 

"It is a natural feeling, I know," said 
Miss Louisa; "but is it the best way? 
How many wrongs does it take to make a 
right?" 

"All the wrongs in the world wouldn't 
make a right, I suppose," said Sidney. 

" Then your adding to Jack's wrong the 
wrong of ' thrashing' him would not make 
the matter better, would it?" 

" Well, but, aunt, you don't know how 
hard it is, because women don't have such 
feelings." 

"Don't they?" asked Miss Louisa, 
smiling. 

"Well, anywaj^, they can't thrash people 
if they want to ; so it is all the same. And I 
don't think it is any worse to want to whip 
people than it is to despise them so." 

"What elegant words you do use, Sid- 
ney !" said Annie, disdainfully. 

"N"ever mind my words," retorted Sid- 
ney. " I say it is not any worse to feel as I 
do than to despise folks as you do. And I 
know I don't want to whip half so many 
folks as you turn up your nose at : so I am 

2«- 



18 AVHO THE PARTIES WERE. 



not SO bad as you, after all, Miss Per- 
fection/' 

'' When both are wrong it is unnecessary 
to debate which is the most so," said Miss 
Winston, gravely. '^ Annie knows very well 
what I think of such pride ; and you know 
that it is not proper to speak so to any one, 
much less to your cousin. But we will let it 
drop for the present; and you had better 
prepare for tea, which is just ready." 

Richard and Annie Winston, and Sidney 
and Margaret (or, as she was usually called, 
Daisy) Whipple, were grandchildren of 
old Squire Winston, of Cedar Meadows* 
Richard's father was a sea-captain and very 
much away from home ; and since their mo- 
ther's death, about a year before, he and his 
sister had been constantly with their grand- 
father. Dick was about fifteen, and Annie 
fourteen. They were somewhat alike in 
their dispositions, but with this very import- 
ant difierence, — that Dick, though naturally 
much more impulsive, was much more under 
the dominion of principle, than his sister. 
He had been a very different boy ever since 
his mother's long sickness and death; and 
A.unt Louisa, who knew him best, thought 



CHARACTERS. 19 



him truly a Christian. Annie was a good 
girl, too, and had some excellent qualities, 
such as truthfulness and industry and great 
faithfulness in whatever she undertook to 
do. She was the best scholar in the family, 
— not excepting Richard, who was a year 
older, — and this, not because she was the 
brightest in capacity, but because she had 
the most application. Her great faults were 
pride, jealousy and a certain self-will which, 
made it very difficult for her to acknowledge 
herself in the wrong. Her great friend was 
her cousin Sidney Whipple, who was as dif- 
ferent from herself as can be imagined, 
being very impulsive, warm-tempered, not 
very fond of study, and wholly destitute of 
that proper pride in himself, as Annie con- 
sidered it, which would prevent him from 
playing with all sorts of boys tind asso- 
ciating with all sorts of people. With all 
his faults, Sidney was more of a favourite 
in the family than any of the children. 
He was, as we said, not remarkable for 
scholarship ; but he liked reading, especially 
books of travels and voyages; and his great 
ambition was to go to sea with his uncle 
Harry. Richard had a grown-up brother at 



20 EFFECTS OF THE AFFAIR AT THE SAW-MILL. 



the West; and there was another family of 
grandchildren, who lived in Boston and 
were only occasional visitors at the Mea- 
dows. Daisy Whipple was a little, delicate, 
six-years-old girl, the youngest grandchild, 
and the pet and plaything of all. The 
Whipples were orphans, and had lived with 
their grandfather several years. All these 
children had a governess, who taught them 
several hours a day ; but this lady was at 
present visiting her relations, and her pupils 
were enjoying a vacation. 

Miss Winston found after tea that 
Richard had some fever and must be con- 
tented to remain in bed for the evening; 
and Dick was contented to obey, for he felt 
pretty stifi* after his exertions, and his face 
and head ached from the effects of the blow. 
He got u^ to breakfast the next morning, 
but found he had very little appetite; and 
he lay upon the sofa all day, unable to read, 
and feeling very unwell indeed. The little 
kitten, now apparently quite recovered, 
seemed to feel a great deal of sympathy for 
him, and really appeared as if she were try- 
ing to comfort and entertain her preserver. 

'^ She acts as if she knew that it was Dick 



THE KITTEN REVIVED. 21 



that pulled her out/' said Sidney, after he 
had vainly tried to coax the kitten away 
from the sofa. '' I wonder if she does ?" 

^'I should think it very likely," replied 
Miss Winston. '' Cats often show a great 
deal of gratitude to those who are kind to 
them; and she certainly has every reason to 
be thankful to Dick that a cat can have." 

''Yes, little kitty, all your troubles 
would have been over by this time if he 
had not taken your part. No cat was ever 
in a greater strait." 

" It seems as though she had been used 
to being petted," said Annie, caressing the 
little thing and dropping the end of her 
handkerchief for her to play with. "I 
wonder where she came from?" 

"I wish kittens could talk !" said Daisy. 

'' So she could tell us her adventures ! I 
wish she would, I declare!" exclaimed Sid- 
ney. " Come, aunt, tell us the adventures 
of the kitten. You have not told us a story 
in a long time." 

''Not since the day before yesterday," re- 
plied Miss Winston, smiling. 

"Did 5^ou tell us one then? I don't re- 
member what it was about," said Sidney, 



22 SHOWING CLAWS. 



innocently. " What are you doing to her 
claws, Dick ?" 

"I am trying to see how she curls them 
up so close," replied Richard. "See; now 
you would not know she had any claws, her 
paws are so soft and smooth ; and yet they 
are as sharp as needles," he continued, 
hastily withdrawing his hand, — for pussy, 
annoyed with the examination of her talons, 
had shown symptoms of displaying them in 
her own way. 

" That's the trouble of playing with cats," 
said Sidney: ''they are always showing 
their claws." 

" That's the trouble of playing with some 
other folks," retorted Annie, who always re- 
sented as personal any affront offered to her 
pets. 

" Take a lesson from it, then, Annie, and 
don't be so fond of showing your own 
claws," said Miss "Winston. 

''Aunt," said Richard, rather hastily, as 
if to turn the conversation, " are not lions 
and cats something the same kind of ani- 
mals?" 

" Oh, Dick ! Cats and lions ! A lion is forty 
times as large as a cat." 



LIONS AND CATS. 23 



" So is Bruno twenty times as large as 
Aunt Meredith's King Charles spaniel," re- 
plied Richard; " and yet they are both dogs. 
But I am sure I have read in some book 
that cats and lions are the same, or nearly 
the same." 

"You are quite right, Richard," said Miss 
Winston. " They both belong to the same 
genus or family in the animal-kingdom. 
The lion is the largest, and the domestic cat 
perhaps the smallest, of this family; but 
there are many strong points of resem- 
blance." 

" What do you mean, aunt, by saying that 
they are of the same genus ?" asked Annie. 

" I mean that they resemble each other in 
so many particulars as to be classed to- 
gether in the divisions usually made of the 
animal -kingdo m . ' ' 

"How are animals classed?" asked 
Richard. "I always had a general idea 
that it was by means of their teeth or their 
food ; but I am not clear about it. I wish. 
Aunt Louisa, you would give us some 
lectures upon Natural History." 

"I declare, Dick, that is a grand idea!" 
said Annie. "I have always wanted to 



24 CLASSIFICATION. 



learn Natural Histor}^; but the books about 
it that I have looked into have had so 
many hard words in them that I have 
alwaj's been discouraged. But you always 
make every thing so plain and easy to un- 
derstand that I am sure I could learn it from 
you." 

''And tell us plenty of stories," said Sid- 
ney : " that is the best part of lectures, I 
think." 

''I should be veiy happy to do so," said 
Miss Louisa, ''if you think you can be 
enougli interested in the subject to study a 
little and to be contented with some dry 
details of classes and orders." 

"What is the use of the classes, aunt?" 
asked Sidney. 

" The use of them is to arrange our 
knowledge systematically, so that we may 
be able to find what we want more easily," 
replied Miss Winston. " We may compare 
them to the shelves in the china-closet or 
the divisions and drawers in the store-room. 
You know we keep table-cloths in one drawer 
and napkins in another, besides having 
shelves for the spare blankets and comforters, 
a rack to hang up the hams and dried beef, 



EFFECTS OF THE WANT OF IT. 25 



and boxes for the sugar and the flour. All 
these take some trouble to learn at first; but 
in the end they save a great deal more. 
Think what a time I should have, when 
company comes suddenly, if I had to look 
over all the blankets and sheets to find the 
napkins, and to take every thing out of my 
own drawers to get at the spare table- 
spoons." 

"That's the way Sidney 'has to do," 
laughed Annie. "He took all the things 
out of his desk the other day to find one 
little water-wheel ; and, after all, it was not 
there." 

"No, indeed: it was in 3^0 ur work-basket, 
Miss Annie! I found it there myself; 
and you as much as owned that you put it 
there." 

"Hush, Sidney! children should not in- 
terrupt," said Annie, with dignity. "Do 
be still," she added, pathetically, as Sidney 
laughed. " Now, be good, Sidney, and I will 
finish your flag to-morrow ; I will, truly. Sit 
down on this cushion ; and don't kick with 
your feet nor play with your fingers, but listen 
as if you wanted to learn something." 

Sidnev sat down and folded his arms de- 



26 GRAND DIVISION. 



murely, while his eyes sparkled with sup- 
pressed fun. Miss Winston continued : — 

''Now shall we go directly to the stories, 
or shall we have a little scientific classifica- 
tion first ?" 

" Oh, let us have the classification first/' 
exclaimed Richard and Annie, together. 

"I say so too," said Sidney. ''When I 
have a piece of pie, I always want to eat the 
crust — which' I don't so much like — first. 
So let us have the hard names first, if you 
please, aunt." 

"Well, then," said Miss Winston, "you 
must know that the whole animal-kingdom 
— ^by which w^e mean all the living creatures 
in the world, of every sort and size — is 
divided into four great departments. These 
departments are Vertebrata, Articulata, 
MoLLUSKS and Radiata. Can you remem- 
ber these four names ?" 

"I guess I can, if I know what they 
mean," said Sidney. 

" I will give you a definition and an ex- 
ample of each, and then you may give me 
one, if you can. The first — vertebrated ani- 
mals — have a backbone and a bony skeleton. 
Can you give me an example of this class ?" 



CLASSES OF ANIMALS. 27 



"Cats"— '^ birds"— and "fishes"— were 
some of the examples given. 

" And men," added Richard. "" 

"Are men animals?" asked Daisy, who 
had not spoken a word before. " I did not 
know that." 

" Men are animals, and something besides 
animals," said Richard, "because they have 
something that other animals have not." 

"Very true," replied Miss Winston. 
"Articulata are those animals which are 
divided into segments or rings and have no 
interior skeleton, such as insects, crabs and 
lobsters, and earth-worms." 

"I always thought lobsters were fish," 
said Annie. 

" No : they are very dififerent from fish, 
which are vertebrated animals. The Mol- 
lusks are soft, cold-blooded animals, and are 
usually enclosed in a shell, like oysters and 
snails. The Radiata, the last of all, have 
their parts radiating, or arranged round a 
centre, and are the simplest of all in their 
construction, such as the star and jelly fishes, 
and those curious animals the sea-nettles. 
"With these three latter departments we 
have nothing to do at present, but will con- 



28 CLASSES OF ANIMALS. 



fine our attention to the first-mentioned. 
What was it?" 

'' Vertebrata," said Sidney and Annie 
together. 

" This department is divided into four 
classes, — mammals, or those which suckle 
their young, birds, reptiles and fishes. 
Now, to which department does our pussy 
belong?" 

^' The first," said Annie; ''because she 
has a backbone." 

" And to which class ?" 

"Mammals," said Dick; ''because cats 
suckle their kittens." 

"Yery good, so far. This class is sub- 
divided again into twelve orders, which are 
often included in three, namely, Carnivora, 
or those which eat flesh, often called, also, 
beasts of prey ; Herbivora, or those which 
eat vegetable food ; and Cetacia, or warm- 
blooded animals living in the water, as 
whales." 

"I thought w^hales were fish, anyhow," 
said Sidney. 

"No more than lobsters are, — nor so 
much. How, then, will you locate our pussy, 



CLASSES OF ANIMALS. 29 



Sidney ? Begin at the beginning, and see 
if you can go through, them all." 

^' Well, let me see. She is a vertebrated 
animal, because she has a backbone ; a mam- 
mal ; carnivorous, because she eats meat ; 
and 1 believe that is all." 

"That is all I have told you. The two 
remaining divisions are genus, — which in- 
cludes such animals as have certain resem- 
blances, like those of the genus Felis, which 
includes all that have claws which can be 
drawn back, the same kind of eyes, and the 
same number of teeth, — and species, which 
includes all of a particular kind, such as 
felis Leo, which includes all the lions. Now, 
let us go over the divisions once more." 

"Departments first," said Annie; "then 
classes, then orders, then genus, and lastly 
species." 

"What a memory you have!" said Sid- 
ney, admiringly : "I wish I had." 

"Your memory would be as good as 
mine, and better, if you would only listen," 
replied Annie, " but you never half attend. 
And what else, aunt?" 

"I think that is enough for to-night," re- 
plied Miss Winston. "To-morrow we will 

3* 



30 CLASSES IN ALL THINGS. 



continue the subject; and, as our time will 
be rather limited, we will confine our atten- 
tion entirely to the first order, named the 
carnivora, or, if you like it better, the meat- 
eaters ; and, in honour of our new pussy, w^e 
will begin to-morrow evening with domestic 
cats/' 

'' But do tell me, aunt: are all the animals 
in the world divided as you have said, so 
that when you see any animal you can tell 
in a m'oment whether it has a backbone or 
is formed in rings, &c. ?" 

" Certainly; and so are trees and flowers, 
and stones and clouds, all formed in such a 
way as to be placed in orders and classes ; 
and the laws which govern their forms and 
habits are as uniform and perfect as those 
which govern the stars. They must be so; 
for they are the workmanship of Him who 
is revealed to us as the God of order and 
not of confusion.'' 



THE BOMESTIC CAT. 31 



CHAPTER II. 

THE DOMESTIC CAT. 

The next evening the children assembled 
themselves in the parlour after tea, instead 
of running out to play as usual ; and Mr. 
Winston looked around surprised as he saw 
them all sitting quietly down as if prepared 
to listen. 

"What is the meaning of this?" he 
asked. " What has made you so sedate all 
at once?" 

"We are going to hear some stories, 
grandfather," replied Sidney. " Aunt Louisa 
is going to tell us about beasts of prey." 

Annie looked as if she thought Sidney's 
manner of stating the case hardly dignified 
enough. 

"Not stories exactly, grandfather, but a 
sort of lectures upon ITatural History. 
She told us about the divisions last night." 



32 HARD WORDS. 



"What divisions, my child?" 

"The divisions of the animal-kingdom/' 
said Sidney. " Aunt said they v^ere of use, 
like the drawers in the store-room, to sort 
and put away our knowledge in. But why 
do they use such hard words, grandfather ? 
"Why could they not use English words as 
well as Latin ? They would be so much 
easier to remember." 

"Easier to you, perhaps, but not to 
people who don't know English and who 
do know Latin," answered Dick. "I sup- 
pose the reason is that Latin is a sort of 
common language. Learned men in all 
countries know it and understand the names 
at once as soon as they see them. Is not 
that so, grandfather?" 

"I believe you are right, my son." 

" But why could they not take some lan- 
guage now in use?" persisted Annie. "I 
am sure French or English is much easier 
to learn than Latin." 

" There might be some difficulty and 
jealousy in deciding which language should 
be chosen in that case ; and that is avoided 
by the use of a dead or unspoken language," 
observed her grandfather. " The people of 




The Domestic Cat. 



p. 33. 



THE DOMESTIC CAT. 33 



each nation would naturally prefer their 
own tongue; and who would decide? I 
think this is an excellent plan of Aunt 
Louisa's ; and I hope you will be very at- 
tentive and learn all you can. "What is 
your subject to-night?" he asked, as Miss 
Louisa entered the room with her arms full 
of books, closely followed by pussy, who 
had set herself about propitiating the heads 
of the house, as if she knew that her stay 
depended upon their pleasure. 

" To begin with cats, in compliment to 
our little stranger here," Miss Louisa said; 
"and the domestic cat and her relations 
form our subject this evening." 

''When you get as far as panthers and 
wild-cats, I shall perhaps be able to give 
you some anecdotes," said Mr. Winston. 
" So far as cats go, I am sure you are fully 
equal to the subject. Meantime, I shall go 
into the library and read my newspaper." 

"The domestic cat," said Miss Louisa, as 
soon as her audience were comfortably 
settled, "has been supposed by some natu- 
ralists to be descended from the common 
wild-cat of Great Britain and the West of 
Europe. This was for a long time the ge- 



34 THE CAT IN THE EAST. 



nerally-received opinion ; but Mr. Eiippcl, 
in his travels in Nubia, discovered a small 
species of wild-cat, smaller than the Euro- 
pean, which corresponds in many more 
particulars than the English; and this is 
now more generally supposed to have been 
the parent of the domestic cat. It is pro- 
bable that they may be derived from seve- 
ral different sources ; and the tortoise-shell 
cat is often called the Spanish cat. It is cer- 
tain that the Egyptians had domestic cats at 
a very early period and held them in great 
esteem, as they figure largely in the paint- 
ings on the interior of the tombs, and many 
mummies of them are found, carefully em- 
balmed." 

"Do you think they worshipped them, 
aunt?" asked Daisy. 

"I am not sure that they worshipped 
them; but there is no doubt that they 
treated them as sacred, — perhaps something 
as the Hindoos do the Brahminic bulls and 
certain kinds of monkeys. In ancient 
times they were very rare in the West of 
Europe, and high prices were asked for 
them. Mne hundred and forty-eight years 
after Christ, Hoel, the good king of Wales, 



PRICES OF CATS. 35 



enacted a law regulating the price of cats 
and enumerating the good qualities of 
which they ought to be possessed. Thus, 
the price of a kitten before it could see 
was one penny sterling, — which was a much 
larger sum in those days than it is now. 
Till satisfactory proof could be obtained of 
its having killed a mouse, the price was two- 
pence, and, after that, according to its good 
qualities. A cat should have her claws 
whole, should be perfect in the senses of 
hearing and seeing, be a good mouser and 
a good nurse ; and if she failed in any of 
these qualities the seller was to forfeit to 
the buyer one-third of her value. If any 
one stole or killed the cat that guarded the 
king's granary, he was to forfeit a milch-cow, 
or as much grain as, when poured over the 
cat suspended by the tail, its head touching 
the floor, would cover it entirely." 

'' That does not look as if they were only 
wild-cats tamed, does it?" said Eichard ; 
^'because they would not be very likely to 
ask so much for what any one could have 
by merely taking trouble enough." 

"True," replied Miss Louisa; "and the 
fact that the name applied to them is nearly 



36 HOW CATS CAME TO BE HERE. 



the same in all European languages, and all 
derived from the Latin, seems also to show 
that it was probably introduced into the 
West and South of Europe by the Romans." 

" Do you know whether there is any ac- 
count of cats being brought to this country, 
aunt?" asked Sidney. 

''I do not, my dear: I have never seen 
any. They are frequently brought over on 
board ships, to destroy the rats and mice 
which always abound in vessels. Perhaps 
some sea-captain imported two or three lit- 
ters of kittens as a venture, or some little 
girl in London or Bristol sent one as a pre- 
sent to her cousins in this country." 

"How glad she must have been to see 
it!" said Daisy, with sparkling eyes. ''I 
wonder what she said. I wish, aunt, you 
would write a story about the first kitten 
that came to America." 

" Perhaps I will some time ; or you may 
ask Dick to do it. He is the story-writer, 
you know." 

Dick blushed and smiled. He was ra- 
ther shy of having any one know that he 
wrote ; but he had once or twice read stories 
to the children, who thought him equal to 



SIZE OF CATS. 37 



Sir Walter Scott at least. " How large are 
domestic cats generally?" he asked. 

" The medium length is said to be about 
two feet nine inches, measuring from the tip 
of the nose to the end of the tail; but it 
varies a good deal in different individuals. 
Our Maltese cat Sam — which was the largest 
cat I ever saw — measured twenty-one inches 
exclusive of his tail. This kitten, which I 
should say was about two-thirds grown, is 
fifteen inches long, exclusive of her tail, 
which is nine inches more." 

''How did you find out, aunt?" asked 
Sidney. 

''I measured her with my yard ribbon," 
answered Miss Winston ; ''and very indig- 
nant she was at the liberty. As the common 
cat possesses nearly all the traits of the genus 
Felis, we may as well describe them in con- 
nection with her. All the animals of the 
family possess a smooth fur, which is some- 
times nearly uniform in colour, but often 
beautifully marked and variegated by dark 
and black spots. Their muscles are well 
developed, especially those of the fore-part 
of the body, so that they are exceedingly 
strong in proportion to their size. A cat 



38 FEATURES OF CATS. 



will carry off a piece of meat nearly as large 
as herself without much difficulty. They 
have very strong, sharp claws, which are 
provided with powerful muscles, so arranged 
that when not in use they may be drawn 
back into a sheath, which serves to keep 
them sharp and fit for use and contributes 
to the noiseless tread which is one of the 
principal characteristics of these animals. 
I think there is only one exception to the 
rule, — the chetah, or hunting leopard. The 
tongue is covered with small horny points 
turning backwards, which gives it the rough 
feeling you notice when the kitten licks 
your hand. 

" The eyes are large and bright, and are 
usuallj^ of a yellowish or greenish tinge: 
sometimes they are gray or brown ; and I 
once had a black cat whose eyes were 
bright blue. Some of the white cats have 
the eyes of different colours, — generally a 
blue eye and a yellow one. The pupil of 
the eye is not round like your's, but elliptical 
or oval, being the largest up and down. 
The size of it varies very much with the 
degree of light. In the dark it seems to 
cover the whole eye ; while in a bright sun- 



THE cat's whiskers. 39 



light it is reduced to a mere line. It also 
dilates greatly upon any sudden excitement. 
It is owing to this great sensibility to light 
that cats are able to see very well in places 
which would appear perfectly dark to you 
and me. The sense of hearing is very acute, 
as you may easily satisfy yourself by ex- 
periment." 

''What is the use of their whiskers?" 
asked Annie. 

" Tliey are supposed to be of service in 
warning them of. obstacles, and thus en- 
abling them to pass noiselessly through 
brushwood and thickets, where the sound 
even of a breaking twig would give warning 
to their prey. You will observe that they 
extend to the width of the body, and seem 
very sensitive. The bristles above the eyes 
have the same use, and preserve the eyes 
themselves from injury. 

'' The gait of all the cat-tribe is graceful, 
and in the larger kinds majestic, and all 
their motions are agile and free. In young 
kittens, especially, the spine seems to be made 
of something more elastic than India-rubber. 
They usually lie in wait for their prey in 
situations which it frequents ; and nothing 



40 HABITS OF CATS. 



can exceed their patieDce when so em- 
ployed." 

" I know that !" interrupted Sidney. ^'I 
have seen old Punch sit for hours at a hole 
where he had seen a mouse go in." 

" Oh, Sidney, not for hours !" said Annie. 
" How many hours ?" 

''I don't know how manj^, but I know I 
have seen him watch for hours at a time," 
persisted Sidney. ^'Plaven't you, aunt?" 

"Yes, Sidney; I do not think your state- 
ment at all exaggerated ; and, as you may 
observe, they return to the same place again 
and again, and seem to feel very much dis- 
appointed if they do not find something to 
reward them. If they catch a sight of their 
prey at a distance, they crouch close to the 
ground, and, as it were, flattening their 
bodies and lowering their heads, they ad- 
vance with rapid but silent steps till they 
are within reach, and then spring forward 
with a quick bound, which rarely fails to 
secure their victim." 

"There is one thing I don't like about 
cats," said Richard. "I mean the way they 
play with poor animals and torment them 



HABITS OF CATS. 41 



before they kill them. It seems such real 
cruelty." 

" I don't believe they mean to be cruel/' 
said Annie, prompt as ever in the defence 
of her favourites. " They don't know that 
it hurts them." 

'' I don't know about that," replied Sid- 
ney. " They i^ever do so to birds. They 
bite their heads ofi' directly, because they 
know the bird can get away ; and so they do 
to big 'rats. It is only little things which 
cannot defend themselves that they play 
with and tease." 

Annie now looked really vexed. ^'They 
do just so with balls and pieces of paper," 
she said; "and I don't believe they do it to 
be cruel. Do you, aunt?" 

"I do not know, my dear, lam sure," 
replied Miss "Winston. "It looks very 
much like it, certainly ; but I hardly think 
it likely that they would do it for that rea- 
son alone." 

"I used to think I never could like Punch 
so well again after I saw him play with a 
mouse one day," said Sydney. "And I 
never can like cats as well as dogs, for that 
very reason." 



42 HABITS OF CATS. 



"Your pets never do any thing wrong," 
said Annie, half to herself. 

Sidney looked surprised and hurt, for he 
had no idea of annoying his cousin by his 
remarks. He knew by experience, however, 
that when Annie was in a pet it was always 
best to leave her to herself, when she usually 
became ashamed of her ill humour before 
a great while; whereas, if anybody noticed 
it, she seemed to feel herself obliged to 
maintain it as long as possible for the mere 
sake of consistency. 

"People say," said Richard, "that cats 
care much more for places than for people, 
and hardly ever form strong attachments. 
Do you think it is true?" 

"Not ordinarily," replied Miss Winston. 
"It is very true that, generally speaking, 
cats dislike change of place, and, other things 
being equal, would rather remain where 
they have been brought up ; but I have seen 
many cats, young and old, that made no 
objection to removing any distance with 
the family to which they were attached, and 
showed no inclination to return to their old 
home, even though the distance was very 
short. Sonnini, a French traveller in 



FRIENDSHIP OF CATS. 43 



Egypt, had a cat which accompanied him 
in all his journeyings and was never un- 
easy at any change so long as she was with 
her master. I recollect also reading, in Miss 
Roberts's entertaining book upon India, of 
an English officer who had for pets a cat, a 
small antelope and a Persian greyhound, 
which were strongly attached to him and to 
each other. They ate, played and slept to- 
gether, and always went to the gate of the 
enclosure to wait for their master. They 
accompanied him upon many long marches 
and excursions ; and the cat never seemed 
to care for change of place, so long as her 
master and her two friends were with 
her." 

" How I should like to have seen them !" 
said Sidney. ''Would not you, Annie?" 
Annie nodded. ''But I did not know that 
cats and dogs were ever friends. People 
say of quarrelsome persons that they fight 
like cats and dogs, you know; and almost 
all dogs will kill cats." 

" I believe that is only because they are 
taught to do so," said Miss Winston. "I 
have seen cats and dogs as good friends 
as those I have just described. You re- 



44 ANECDOTE OF CATS. 



member Mark and Lufra at your grand- 
father Elliot's, Dick?" 

"Tell us about them, won't you?" asked 
Sidney. ''It seems to me I remember Lufra : 
— a great yellow cat, wasn't she?" 

''Yes ; and Mark was a great, black, rough 
dog. He formed a strong attachment to 
Lufra, or Lufra to him, when she was a very 
little kitten. Mark had learned to kill cats 
before he came to us; and when we got this 
kitten everybody said we never could keep 
it, — that Mark would kill it the first chance 
he had ; but grandmother said she knew she 
could teach him better. So she took the kit- 
ten in her arms and went into the kitchen 
where Mark was. As soon as he saw it, he 
began to bristle up; but grandmother sat 
down and called him to her. He came, 
rather unwillingly. 'Mark,' said she, 'I 
want you to look at this kitten. This is my 
kitten, and you must not hurt it ; you must 
take good care of it and not let any other 
dog touch it. Do you hear ?' Mark turned 
his head clear away and licked his jaws 
w^ith his tongue ; but she set the kitten down 
under his nose and made him look at her. 
I was frightened ; for I thought he would 



THE BRUTE FRIENDS. 45 



snap her up in a moment ; but he diet not. 
He just turned and walked away in a very 
dignified manner and lay down under the 
table. It was not long after that I saw 
Supa playing with his tail; and after awhile 
they got to be the greatest friends ima- 
ginable, and played, ate and slept together, 
till Supa was an old, old cat; and when she 
died it seemed as though Mark could not 
be comforted." 

" Supa was a remarkable cat," said Aunt 
Louisa. 

'^ Somehow, all our cats are remarkable," 
said Richard, laughingly. ''We have the 
most wonderful cats and dogs and horses I 
ever heard of, I think. I suppose it is 
because we pay so much attention to them." 

" Every man thinks his own geese swans," 
said Sidney, sententiously. 

"Don't use proverbs, Sidney," returned 
Annie, reprovingly: ''it is vulgar." 

" Then grandfather is the most vulgar 
person I know," replied Sidney, laughing; 
" for he is always using them." 

" Grandfather and you are two very dif- 
ferent persons," said Annie. 

" I must say, I do not object to a judicious 



46 BIRDS AND CHEKRIES. 



use of proverbs," observed Miss Winston. 
'' There is much of the wisdom of long 
experience stored up in them; and they 
often say a great deal in a few w^ords. But, 
Richard, — to return to our subject, — what 
was the story about Supa's going shooting 
with your brother ? I have heard, but I do 
not remember distinctly." 

''^It was one summer in cherry-time," 
said Richard, '' and there were such flocks 
of birds in the garden that we seemed to 
have no prospect of having any fruit left 
for ourselves. If they had done like the 
robins, — taken a cherry here and there and 
eaten it in a decent manner, — we would not 
have quarrelled with them ; but the little 
things would peck every cherry on the tree 
without eating one. They cared nothing at 
all for bells or scarecrows. Harry and I 
put up a figure of a man with a gun — a real 
gun — in one of the trees, thinking it would 
keep them off a while, at any rate ; but it 
was not ten minutes before a dozen birds 
w^ere seated on the gan itself, flapping their 
wings, and screaming and pecking with all 
their might. I could not help laughing to 
see them, — though it was provoking, too." 




p. 46. 



A SHREWD CAT. 47 



*^^But about the cat," said Sidney, im- 
patiently. 

''Well," continued Dick, ''after our 
scarecrow failed, there was nothing for us 
but to shoot as many as we could, in hopes 
of scaring them away and saving at least 
some of the fruit ; and Harry and I de- 
stroyed — I cannot tell how many. After a 
while, Supa, w^ho was at first very much 
afraid of the gun, began to find out what 
we were about, and made up her mind to 
have a share of the sport herself. She used 
to follow us round the garden, always keep- 
ing close behind. When we were about to 
shoot a bird, she would crouch close to the 
ground ready for a spring ; and she often 
caught the bird before it fell. After she 
had eaten as many as she wanted, she would 
carry them away and lay them up in heaps, 
apparently just for the fun of the thing." 

Sidney drew" a long breath. 

"If any one but you had told that story, 
Dick, I should say it was a large one. How 
did the cat know what you were about ?" 

" I suppose she used her eyes and her un- 
derstanding," replied Richard. "She saw 
that whenever the gun went off a bird fell ; 



48 now TO TEND CATS. 



and it did not require much, reasoning to 
put the two things together." 

''Can cats reason?" asked Dais3% doubt- 
fully. 

" To a certain extent, no doubt, they can," 
replied Miss Winston. ''"We see instances 
of it every day. Jenny reasoned when she 
taught her kittens to sit up and beg as Dick 
had taught her. She knew that when she 
begged in this way for food she almost 
always got it ; and she concluded from that 
fact that it would be a good thing for her 
kittens to have the same accomplishment. 
I used often to be amused at seeing how 
persevering she was in setting them in the 
proper position." 

" Many people say that cats can never be 
taught any thing," said Annie. 

" That is a mistake," returned her aunt. 
" They are, it must be confessed, not nearly 
so docile as dogs, and they need to be 
coaxed and rewarded, not driven or threat- 
ened. They are exceedingly sensitive to 
kindness, for the most part, and show a 
great deal of gratitude to those who are 
serviceable to them. Witness Jessy's af- 
fection for Dick." 



GRATITUDE OF CATS. 49 



'^Yes: she thinks more of Dick than of 
any of us," said Annie; and she did not 
look very well pleased, — for she could be 
jealous even of the affections of a cat. 
Jealousy was Annie's besetting sin, and 
most of her other faults of temper grew out 
of it. It showed itself oftener towards her 
brother than towards any other member of 
the family. She did not want him to like 
anyone else; and sometimes it seemed as 
though she did not want any one to like 
him. Sidney was the only one who ven- 
tured to laugh at her about this failing ; and 
she did not like it very well even from 
him. 

^'My blue-eyed black cat was a notable 
instance of this kind of gratitude," con- 
tinued Miss Winston. '' She was a wild 
creature, with long, shining black hair, a 
very long tail and the brightest of blue 
eyes. Altogether, I think she was the 
ugliest specimen of the feline race I ever set 
eyes on. She was, as I have said, very wild^ 
and wandered about the cellars and out- 
houses without ever coming into the house. 
One night, as mother and myself were 
making the rounds of the house before bed- 



50 GRATITUDE OF CATS. 



time, we heard a most pitiful mewing in 
the cellar. We tried to discover from what 
place the sound came, for a long time with- 
out success. At last I looked into a pork- 
barrel,' which had by some mischance been 
left uncovered ; and there I found this kit- 
ten. It had climbed up on the only piece 
of pork that was left in the brine, and this 
kept its head out ; and here it was clamouring 
for help. I took it out, and, after wiping the 
poor little creature as well as I could, it scam- 
pered away. The next day, as I was sitting 
upon the steps at the door, this kitten came 
running through the hall and jumped on 
my shoulder, and from that moment was my 
firm friend, — almost my shadow ; for it fol- 
lowed me everywhere, in doors and out, 
though it would let no one else touch it, 
and scratched your aunt Priscilla severely 
one day for no other ofltence than wearing 
a dress like mine and sitting in my place. 
I became very much attached to the little 
creature, ugly and cross-grained as it un- 
deniably was ; and I felt very sorry when an 
accident finally put an end to its life. 

'' There is this great difference between 
the affection of the dog and that of the cat: 



TEETH OF ANIMALS. 51 



the former often shows great attachment 
to an unkind and even brutal master, 
and no amount of ill usage seems to change 
his feelings ; but the cat must be well and 
even respectfully treated to insure her 
regard. She never likes a person who is 
not kind to her. She seems, however, often 
to make an exception in favour of young 
children, from whom she will endure any 
amount of pulling and poking with the ut- 
most complacency, seeming to consider that 
they are not to be reckoned accountable." 

^^"What sharp teeth they have!" said 
Eichard, examining Jessie's mouth, — much 
against her will. ^'How many kinds of 
teeth have they, aunt ?" 

'' Cats, like almost all other quadrupeds, 
have three kinds of teeth. The teeth of 
animals, as you know, Eichard, form one 
great means of distinguishing the different 
orders ; and from them those who are 
learned in such matters can discover with 
certainty what is the nature of their food. 
The number of each kind of teeth, ex- 
pressed in the manner of a fraction, is called 
the Dental Formula. Cats have all three 
kinds of teeth, namely, incisors or cutting- 



62 TEETH OF CATS. 



teeth, whieli are the small, sharp teeth yon 
see ill the front of the kitten's mouth and 
of your own ; canine teeth, which are those 
long, sharp teeth at the sides, and corre- 
spond to what you call j' our eye-teeth ; and 
molars or grinders, which are those at the 
sides, — double teeth, as they are generally 
called. These last are they which afford 
the most readj^ means of distinguishing the 
habits of an animal, whether carnivorous 
or not. Thus, in the carnivora the teeth 
have sharp cutting edges, and shut by each 
other like the blades of a pair of scissors, 
so as to tear or cut to pieces the flesh 
which constitutes the food of the animals. 
These teeth are always accompanied by 
muscular and hairy paws, and claws more or 
less sharp. In the herbivora, on the con- 
trarj^, the molar teeth are broad and flat, 
with ridges upon the upper surface, and 
adapted for grinding their vegetable food, 
aided by the horizontal movement of their 
jaws. They have frequently no canine 
teeth, and very often incisors or cutting- 
teeth only in the lower jaw, while the upper 
jaw is callous. The incisors, aided by the 
tongue, gather the grass and transfer it to 



BARON CUVIER. 63 



the molars, which grind it. Herbivorous 
animals never have claws, and are often pro- 
vided with horns, which are never found on 
the carnivora." 

" I have read a good story about that," 
said Eichard; " but I don't know whether it 
is true or not." 

"Never mind that," said Sidney: "let us 
have the story, at any rate." 

"My story relates to Baron Cuvier," said 
Eichard. " One of his friends, knowing how 
calm and courageous he was, undertook to 
frighten him. So he dressed himself up, as 
frightfully as he could, in skins, with an im- 
mense pair of horns upon his head, and 
hoofs upon his feet; and, thus attired, and 
carrying a light in his hand, he went to the 
bedside of his friend and announced him- 
self as an evil spirit come to devour him." 

"I think it was very wicked to do so," 
said Daisy, gravely. 

" Well, never mind that now. "What did 
he do, Dick?" 

" The baron raised himself upon his elbow 
and gravely regarded the intruder from head 
to foot. ^Devour me?' said he, coolly: 
'quite impossible, — with those horns and 

5-» 



64 TEETH OF ANIMALS. 



hoofs. Can't be carnivorous : impossible !' 
and coolly lay down again and went to 
sleep." 

''I wonder if that is true/' said Daisy, 
who was a notorious coward. " I don't be- 
lieve it is. Do you, aunt?" 

" Indeed, my dear, I cannot say. Baron 
Cuvier was a very great and good man, and 
would not be likely to be alarmed by any 
such foolish device. At any rate, the an- 
swer w^as a very good one, and, as Dick says, 
it illustrates our subject very well. But to 
return to the teeth of our cats. All animals 
of the feline family have six cutting or in- 
cisor teeth above and below, two canine 
teeth in each jaw, and the molar teeth are 
eight in the upper jaw and six in the lower, 
— making thirty teeth in all. This dental 
formula w^ould be expressed thus:" and Miss 
"Winston wrote it on a small porcelain slate 
and held- it up for inspection. It read as fol- 
lows : — Incisors, | : Canines, {:{; Molars, |:|. 
^'The numbers above the line show the upper 
teeth, those below the low^er, and the sepa- 
ration shows how many there are on each 
side. It would be well for you to remember 




The Wild Cat. 



p. 55 



WILD CATS. 55 



this formula, as it is an ordinary and very 
convenient form of expression." 

" Are there any wild animals of the cat- 
kind at all like common cats," asked Dick. 

"Yes, several. The wild-cat of Europe 
resembles the domestic cat in so many par- 
ticulars that many people have supposed 
that the latter were only a variety of the 
former somewhat modified by being domes- 
ticated. Nevertheless, there are several im- 
portant differences, as you may see by this 
print;" and Miss Louisa held up a print of 
the European wild-cat. "It is larger and 
stouter than the common cat, and its paws 
especially are very muscular. The tail 
bears about the same proportion in length 
to the body, but is thicker, and increases in 
size, instead of tapering, towards the tip. 
The fur is thick and rather woolly, of a dark, 
grayish-yellow or sometimes a bluish-gray 
colour, and is marked upon the sides and 
legs with indistinct black bars. It is very 
wild in its habits, and is only found in 
thickly-wooded tracts abounding with rocks 
and precipices, which afford a shelter to it 
while rearing its young. In England they 
are now becoming very rare, and are found, I 



66 THE LYNX. 



believe, only in the rugged districts of Cum- 
berland and Westmoreland; but in Scotland 
and Ireland, they are still so numerous as to 
occasion considerable inconvenience to the 
farmer by destroying lambs and young pigs. 
On the continent of Europe they are often 
found, and their fur is valued for many 
uses." 

"Is the lynx an animal of the cat-kind?" 
asked Annie. 

"Yes : it is usually placed last in the fa- 
mily, and seems, as it were, to connect the 
cats and dogs." 

"I have heard people called lynx-eyed," 
observed Sidney. "I suppose that is be- 
cause lynxes are so sharp-sighted." 

" Many wonderful stories used to be told 
about their power of vision. It does not, 
however, appear from what is at present 
known of the lynx tribe, that they are en- 
dued with any sharper sight than others 
of the cat family. The appearance of their 
ej^es, which are very large, bright and search- 
ing in their expression, may have easily given 
rise to this notion. There are several 
varieties of the lynx, inhabiting different 
parts of the world, and varying somewhat 










The Lynx. 



p, 57. 



THE LYNX. 57 



in their personal appearance. Thus, the 
caracal, which inhabits Asia, has rather a 
slender boclj^, a long tail, and very long 
pointed ears, which, during a part of the 
season at least, are adorned with tufts or 
pencils of long hair on the tips, which give 
a peculiar smartness to its appearance. It 
is of a reddish-brow^n colour, and is about 
two feet nine inches long, including the 
tail. The Canada lynx — which is also found 
in Maine and New Hampshire — is about 
three feet three inches long, with a short 
tail : it has long fur, which is dark gray 
above and white beneath, and short, some- 
what rounded, ears. It is rather a timid 
animal, and is easily killed by a blow on the 
back ; and it hunts only birds and small ani- 
mals, never attacking man. "When angry, 
it spits like a cat, — only much louder. It is 
much valued for its fur ; and many are de- 
stroyed every year. There are tw^o or three 
other species of lynx inhabiting this conti- 
nent; but there seems to be some confusion 
respecting them, and they have not hitherto 
been very exactly distinguished. The com- 
mon European lynx resembles the last- 
named in many particulars, and is also valu- 



68 THE STRANGE NOISE. 



able on account of its far. And now I 
think it is about time to close the lecture 
for to-night, as I see that both Sidney and 
Daisy look sleepy. What do you do with 
the little cat at night, Dick?" 

" I put her in the wood-house last night/' 
replied Dick; "but she made such a noise 
that I think I will put her in the carriage- 
house to-night. She can sleep on the car- 
riage-cushions if she pleases; and, if she 
mews, it will not disturb any one." 

Richard accordingly carried her out and 
deposited her in the carriage, — which might 
have been supposed a sufficiently comfort- 
able lodging for a homeless kitten. But 
Pussy did not think so, or else she was afraid 
to sleep alone after all the stories she had 
heard. About two o'clock in the morning, 
Annie, who slept with Daisy in the nursery, 
was awakened by the latter pulling her arm 
and saying, in a whisper, "Annie, Annie! 
"Wake up ! What is that noise ?" 

"I don't hear any thing," said Annie, 
sleepily. " It was only the wind," 

"No, but listen !" persisted Daisy. "I am 
Bure I heard something scratching against 



FRiaHTENED BUT NOT HURT. 59 



the outside of the window. There ! What 
can it be?" 

Annie, now fully roused, did listen, and 
distinctly heard a sound as of some one 
scratching the glass with their nails. 
''Won't you knock on the wall and call 
the boys?" whispered Daisy, who (never 
very courageous) began to be very much 
frightened at these mysterious sounds. "I 
do believe some one is breaking in." And 
she covered up her head, determined not to 
see the danger, at any rate. 

''Hush! "Wait a minute!" said Annie. 
She listened a moment, and then said, 
"Who's there?" "Meew!" said a little 
voice in reply; and again came the nails 
against the window. 

"It is that abused little cat," said Annie, 
laughing. "Don't you know her mew? 
Don't cry, you foolish child !" she continued, 
striking a light. "It is only the kitten. 
Uncover your head, and you will see her on 
the outside of the window. I will let her 
in ; and then I suppose she will be quiet." 

"Meaow," said the kitty, more urgently 
than before, and as if giving promise of good 
behaviour. Annie opened the window, and 



60 THE OUTSIDER TAKEN IN. 



Bhe was soon on the bed, purring and rolling 
over, as if she hardl}^ knew how to express 
her joy. Finally, by dint of some pushing 
and a few energetic pats on the head, Annie 
succeeded in making her lie down on the 
outside of the bed at a respectful distance, 
and there she was purring very contentedly 
when they went to sleep ; but, when they 
waked in the morning, Kitty was curled 
down in the bed between Annie and Daisy, 
with her head nestled under Daisy's chin 
and one white paw stretched out and rest- 
ing upon the little girl's round red cheek. 

Of course Kitty's adventure was the sub- 
ject of conversation at breakfast ; and much 
wonderment was expressed by the children 
how she found her way to the nursery- 
window. 

'' She must have got through one of the 
little windows into the stable," said Dick, 
'' then into the cow-house, and out through 
the hole that was cut for the hens, and so 
up to the house, and up on the roof by the 
wood-pile. I cannot imagine how she knew 
where to go, or how to find her way b}^ such 
a roundabout passage." 

" Cats are famous for that," remarked 



INSTINCT OF CATS. 61 



Mr. Winston. '' They can find their way 
to a place where they have once been, even 
if they are carried away in a bag so that 
they cannot see the road. I remember when 
I was a boy at home we had a cat that was 
very troublesome, and it was necessary to 
get rid of her; so^ rather than have her 
killed, one of the men took her in a box 
and carried her away to the neighbouring 
citj", where he let her out. But the next 
morning the cat sat upon the steps as usual, 
waiting to be let in ; and after two or three 
such experiments she was left in peace." 

'' Phoebe made a great fuss about my let- 
ting Kitty into the room," said Annie. 
'' She said she might have sucked Daisy's 
breath, and asked me how I would have felt 
to find her dead in the morning." 

^' You would have felt \evj sadly, no 
doubt," said Miss Louisa, smiling; ''but, if 
Daisy never dies till a cat sucks her breath, 
she will have a long life, I can promise you." 

'' Then you don't think there is any thing 
in it, aunt?" 

''Nothing but a foolish superstition. 
What should a cat want of any one's 
breath?" 



62 FOOLISH SUPERSTITION. 



" A man once told me of a favourite cat," 
remarked Mr. Winston, " which he had 
killed, because he fancied it sucked his 
breath. It had been accustomed to sleep 
in his room ; and one night he had a dread- 
ful nightmare, with an intolerable feeling 
of oppression, as though he could not breathe 
at all. It was some time before he waked ; 
and when he did he found the cat lying 
beside him and licking his neck. She had 
licked it with her rough tongue till she had 
almost drawn blood. 'I could not bear to 
have her killed,' he said, in conclusion; 
' but I felt as if I must after that.' " 

''What a fool !" exclaimed Sidney. 

" Gentlj^, my boy ! The man was not a 
fool, by any means; but he was under the 
dominion of a superstition which he had 
probably learned in the nursery, and acted 
accordingly. Tear and ignorance have been 
the parents of cruelty in all ages. The more 
people study the habits and instincts of 
animals, the more likely will they be to treat 
them kindly ; and the more kindly they are 
treated the more reasonable will they be- 
come." 

" I suppose you w^ould not go so far as to 



HOSPITAL FOR CATS. 6S 



have hospitals provided for them like the 
one that Bayard Taylor saw in Aleppo/' 
said Miss Winston. 

" What was that ?" asked her father. '^ I 
do not rememh^er the story." 

"An old Mohammedan, who I suppose 
was very fond of cats, left at his death a 
large sum of money for the purpose of 
establishing an hospital for these animals, 
which is still sustained. ^Here,' says the 
traveller, 'sick cats are tended, homeless 
cats find shelter, and aged cats gratefully 
pur away their declining years.' He saw 
hundreds of these animals promenading the 
walls and galleries of the old mosque used 
for the purpose, all apparently well fed, 
happy and contented, and the sick and 
wounded carefully cared for." 

" They must have fine music upon moon- 
light nights," remarked Sidney. " After all, 
aunt, he might have left his money for 
many worse purposes." 

"And some better ones," said Miss 
Winston. 



64 A GUEST. 



CHAPTER in. 

THE SMALLER SPOTTED CATS. 

One evening, a day or two after the kit- 
ten's adventure, as the children were getting 
ready to hear Aunt Louisa's lecture, the 
noise of carriage-wheels was heard in front 
of the house, and presently after a ring at 
the door-bell. 

*' There, now!" exclaimed Sidney, impa- 
tiently: ''some one is coming, and we shall 
have no lecture, after all! I do wish people 
would not be visiting always and interrupt- 
ing one just at the wrong time !" 

" Sidney, for shame !" said Daisy. " How 
would you like it?" 

^' Like what?" 

"Like being talked about in that way 
when you went anyw^here ? And perhaps 
it is somebody you w^ant to see." 

"I don't want to see anybody so much as 



THE boys' man. 65 



I want to hear Aunt Louisa's lecture," said 
Sidney, pretending to pout, and then, with 
a sudden change of tone, ''Hark, Daisy! 
I do believe it is Uncle Dick!" 

" It is not Uncle Dick, I know. It is Mr. 
Crediton," said Daisy, following Sidney in 
his headlong progress down-stairs. "His 
voice sounds exactly like uncle's some- 
times." 

Mr. Crediton it proved to be, sure enough ; 
and Sidney almost forgot his vexation in 
the pleasure of seeing him, — for Mr. Crediton 
was his very particular friend. Though a 
grave, middle-aged clergyman, he took 
great delight in every thing that interested 
the boys. He was an enthusiastic botanist, 
and could play a game at ball or leapfrog, 
slide, skate or ride with any boy in his 
parish. He had grown up out of doors ; and 
his tall figure, broad shoulders and muscu- 
lar limbs, no less than his deep hearty voice, 
showed the benefit of his training. There 
was nothing he enjoyed more than getting 
together a parcel of the school-children, 
both boys and girls, and taking them- for a 
long walk over the hills and far away, and 
showing them all the wonders and curiosi- 

6* 



66 WAYSIDE LECTURES. 



ties of the country. Sometimes in the 
course of these rambles he would gather a 
moss or fungus, or pick up some little in- 
sect, and give them a lecture upon it more 
full of wonders than a fairy-tale. It must 
be confessed that the boys and girls often 
came home from their rambles with sun- 
flushed faces and scratched hands, not to 
mention torn dresses and dirty aprons ; and 
once or twice more serious misfortunes had 
happened. Once the whole party, Mr. 
Crediton included, had been severely stung 
by yellow-jackets, and came home with 
their eyes swollen out of their heads and 
their faces plastered with mud, — the very 
best remedy, let it be remembered, for all 
such stings. On another occasion, while fish- 
ing, with Mr. Crediton's cane, for a water-lily, 
Sidney had tumbled head-foremost into the 
river and been fished out wetter, if possible, 
than was the kitten Jessie when we first 
made her acquaintance ; and again Kate 
Crediton, who, it must be confessed, was 
something of a romp, found herself fast in a 
black- walnut tree, and was rescued at the ex- 
pense of a considerable portion of her dress. 
But the dress was only a ten-cent calico, 



KATE CREDITON. ^7 



and an old one besides; and nobody was, 
after all, much the worse for the stings. 
The children brought home so many new 
ideas and so much health and enjoyment 
from their excursions that wise parents 
thought them cheaply purchased by a few 
scratches and tatters, and believed them- 
selves extremely favoured in having a 
minister who possessed so much influence 
over young people and could interest them 
to such a degree. Mr. Crediton was rather 
celebrated as a preacher : he preached very 
much as he talked ; and at some of his illus- 
trations drawn from Natural Science, which 
struck older people forcibly for their beauty 
and originality, you might see the cliildren 
glance at each other with half a smile, as 
much as to say, '' We have heard that before." 
Kate Crediton, his only daughter, was 
Annie's great friend, though they were as 
different as children could Well be. Kate 
was, as has before been hinted, something 
of a tom-boy, and sometimes quite shocked 
Annie's strict notions of propriety ; but she 
was an excellent scholar, — better than Annie 
herself. She was, for her age, quite a won- 
derful little housekeeper ; and — best of all — 



68 KATE AND ANNIE. 



she possessed the very loveliest, sunniest 
temper in the world. She could play ball 
with Dick and marbles with Sidney, and 
beat them both or be beaten herself, with 
the most perfect good humour. She could 
jump the rope, roll hoops, ride on horse- 
back, slide, and even skate a little ; and she 
was never angry if any one excelled her in 
any of these accomplishments. She could 
sew and knit nicely, — though, to tell the 
truth, she was not very fond of either, and 
would rather be out in the fields and dig- 
ging in the garden than doing the prettiest 
piece of embroidery that ever was seen. I 
doubt, indeed, whether she would ever have 
taken a needle in her hand but from a sense 
of duty. Annie was very fond of needle- 
work of all sorts, and not very fond of active 
exercise, to which she had had such an 
aversion that her health had really suflered 
very much for the want of it before she 
came to The Meadows ; and even now she 
would, if permitted, sit over her work or 
her books from morning till night, or till 
she had such a headache and pain in her 
side as to disqualify her to do any thing 
more for two or three days. Annie liked 



AN EXCURSION. 69 



to do things as she was used to doing 
them ; Kate was forever inventing new 
ways, even when the old ones answered as 
well, or better. Annie cared a great deal 
too much about '^what people would say," 
and Kate rather too little. But, upon the 
whole, they went on nicely together, and 
were very much happier and better for tlieir 
earnest friendship. 

Mr. Crediton had come this evening to 
propose one of the excursions mentioned 
above, to take place next week; and the 
children were, of course, delighted with the 
idea. 

'^ We'll take our pencils and paper," said 
Kate, "and try taking some sketches once 
more. I hope we shall succeed better than 
we did the last time," she added, laughing. 

''jSTow, Kate, I think we did very well," 
said Richard. " Grandfatherknew what mine 
was meant for the moment he saw it. Didn't 
you, grandfather?" 

^'Why, yes," replied Mr. Winston: "I 
thought it quite a good picture of a beech- 
tree. You gave the spread of the branches 
very well, — though your foliage was rather 
too heavy. I did not see Annie's." 



70 AN EXCURSION. 



'^I tore it up and threw it away/' said 
Annie. ^'I did not think it was worth 
showing." 

" "Worth showing or not, you should have 
kept it, Annie," said Mr. Crediton. '^Al- 
ways keep all your drawings. You will 
find them very useful in showing you what 
improvement you have made. We do not 
expect the works of such young artists to be 
worth much in themselves." 

Annie looked annoyed. She had thought 
verj^ well of her drawing in the first place, 
and had torn it up in a pet because Kate 
and Richard had made some criticisms 
upon it. 

"And then Aunt Louisa can give us her 
lecture upon wild animals in the woods," 
said Sidney, — "which will make it much 
more interesting, because we can think, in 
the intervals of her descriptions, that they 
are prowling about and waiting to devour 
us." 

Daisy looked as though she thought this 
would be rather too interestino; to be 
agreeable. "I think it would be much 
pleasanter to have them at home,'' she said, 
half pouting. 



THE LECTURES. 71 



"Why, Daisy, I was only joking. You 
know there are hardly any wild animals left 
in the country now, and none that are 
at all dangerous. You don't think Mr. 
Crediton would take us if there were any 
real danger? But I think it is fun to fancy 
such things, as we do when we play at lions 
and tigers, you know." 

"I don't like to play them," said Daisy. 

"I rather think, Sidney, if j^ou want a 
lecture in the woods, Mr. Crediton will have 
to give it," observed Miss Louisa. ''I feel 
hardly equal to your adventurous walks." 

"But what of the lectures?" asked Kate. 
" I have not heard any thing about them. 
"Who is giving them?" 

"Aunt Louisa,." replied Annie. "She 
has given us two already ; and we are to have 
another to-night. Last night it was about 
domestic cats and lynxes ; and to-night we 
are to have some other kinds of the cat- 
family." 

"And only think, Kate!" interrupted 
Daisy, eagerly: "lions and tigers are all 
cats, — just like common cats, only bigger !" 

"Of course Kate knows that," said Sid- 
ney, rather arrogantly, forgetting that he 



72 JACK short's sickness. 



had not known it himself a few days before. 
''But I do wish you could stay and hear 
Aunt Louisa talk about cats. Mr. Crediton, 
can Kate stay to night and hear the lec- 
ture?" 

" Kate may stay if she wishes to, and if 
she wall come home in the morning," re- 
plied Mr. Crediton, kindly; '' and I hope she 
will be much the wiser for the lecture. I 
shall be obliged to deprive myself of the 
pleasure of hearing it, as I must go down to 
the sawmill before I go home, to see Jack 
Short, who is very ill of a fever. I fear it 
wnll be a long time before he is well, — if in- 
deed he ever is." 

" How long has he been sick ?" asked Miss 
Louisa. 

" He was taken about a week ago quite 
suddenly. I understood he had been play- 
ing in the water with the dogs till he was 
very wet ; and that night he was attacked 
with rheumatic fever, from which he has been 
suffering ever since." 

Richard and Sidney looked at each other 
but said nothing. Annie was not so for- 
bearing. "It serves him right!" she ex- 



APOLOGY FOIl JACK. 73 



claimed. "It is a judgment upon him for 
treating that poor little kitten so cruelly!" 

"I don't think you ought to say so, 
Annie/' said Richard. ''You would not 
like to have any one say that the fever you 
had last summer was a judgment upon you, 
would you ? It never seems right to me to 
speak in that way." 

''I agree with you, Ei chard," said Mr. 
Crediton. ''We are apt to be altogether 
too ready to pronounce upon the calamities 
which befall our neighbours. Jack is 
doubtless far from being a goo'd boy ; but he 
is no worse than many others, and he has 
some very good traits of character ; but his 
parents are ignorant people, and have 
neglected to give him even the little in- 
struction in their power. I do not consider 
Jack hopeless by any means. But I must 
be off, if I am to be at home to-night." And, 
bidding a kindly good-night to all, he was 
soon heard driving away. 

The children were settled and ready to 
listen. Annie was working a collar: she 
always liked to have her hands employed, 
and insisted that she could listen better 
when this was the case. Daisy was occu- 
r 



,74 TFIE OCr:LOT. 



pied with a piece of knitting, which tired 
her fat lingers and tried her patience sadly ; 
but her industry w^as stimulated by the 
hope of being able to present her grand- 
father with a pair of socks of her own knit- 
ting at Christmas. Kate had brought no 
work, not expecting to stay when she left 
home; but Miss Louisa supplied her with 
a skein or two of cotton, which she wound 
off Sidney's hands. 

''The animals which seem to come next 
in order," the lecturer began, ''are the 
smaller spotted cats, such as the margay, 
the ocelot, the chati, and several other 
varieties. Almost all these creatures are 
extremely beautiful, and very strong and 
courageous in proportion to their size. The 
greater number inhabit South America. 
Among these is the ocelot — an elegant little 
animal about three feet in length including 
the tail, which is very long in proportion to 
the body. It is of a reddish-yellow colour, 
with long, black, chain-like markings upon 
its sides, while its face, breast and the 
under parts of its body are pure white. 
Its shape is graceful and all its motions 
active and easy. It inhabits the deep un- 



THE OCELOT. 75 



trodden forests of South America, where it 
carefully conceals itself during the day, 
sallying forth at night to prey upon birds, 
small quadrupeds and monkeys, which last 
it is said to entrap by an ingenious artifice. 
"When it has a mind to dine off a monkey, 
it seeks a convenient limb, where, closing its 
eyes and stretching out its legs, it pretends 
to be dead. The monkeys, perceiving it, 
and unable to repress their curiosity, or 
perhaps moved by an ungenerous desire to 
triumph over a fallen enemy, approach in 
numbers ; and, while they are prying and 
chattering about the supposed dead body, 
it suddenly starts to life, and some of the 
party are sure to pay dearly for their amuse- 
ment. 

" The ocelot has several times been 
tamed, both in this country and in England. 
I have read a very interesting description 
of one which was for a long time in the 
possession of Dr. Traill, of Edinburgh, and 
which became very tame and docile. She 
was very playful, loved to be tended and 
carried about like a cat, and was much at- 
tached to those who fed and played with 
her. Though very powerful, she never 



76 THE OCELOT. 



used her strength, mischievouslyj except 
that she now and then stole and destroyed 
a glove or hat, and once or twice, when she 
escaped from confinement, she was guilty 
of making a great destruction among the 
hens. On one of these occasions she made 
advances of friendship towards a horse, by 
jumping upon his back and there com- 
posing herself for a nap ; but the horse, not 
relishing the liberty, began to make various 
uneasy motions, which caused his new 
friend to use her claws for the purpose of 
rendering her seat more secure. The poor 
horse 

* What thing upon his back had got 
Did wonder more and more,' 

and, greatly alarmed, began to plunge 
violently. Puss was speedily dislodged, and 
received a kick, which had the effect of so 
entirely disgusting her with the society of 
horses that she always hid herself when 
one appeared. ^ A few days before her de- 
parture from Liverpool to London, she oc- 
casioned a serious alarm. Being fastened 
by a long chain in front of a cottage, she 
suddenly threw down a young girl of four 




The Ocelot 



p. 74. 



THE OCELOT. 77 



years old, and, to the horror of all the by- 
standers, the ocelot appeared to seize the 
child by the neck. This was, however, in- 
tended merely as play; for neither her sharp 
teeth nor crooked talons inflicted the slight- 
est injury; and, after tumbling over one 
another more than once, the child was taken 
up severely frightened, but noway hurt.' 
Another adventure with an ocelot turned 
out much more tragically. A French gen- 
tleman had one in his possession for more 
than three years, which had always appeared 
perfectly gentle, and was so tame that it 
had been allowed the range of the house 
and garden as freely as a domestic cat. One 
evening, as the ocelot was playing by the 
fire with a child of three years old who had 
often frolicked with it before, the animal . 
seemed to become irritated, and, seizing the 
little girl by the throat, killed it before any 
assistance could be given." 

Kate shuddered. "What a frightful 
death!" 

"I wonder what they did with the crea- 
ture," said Sidney. 

'' I believe it was sent to the great mena- 
gerie at Paris, — the Jardin des Plantes," 



78 THE CIIATI. 



replied Miss Louisa. ''I think I could 
never feel safe with any such creature at 
liberty in the house. However gentle they 
maj^ appear, there is no telling when the 
wild fierce nature may assert itself. 

''The chati, another South American tiger- 
cat, is even more gentle than the ocelot, and 
has been many times domesticated. It is 
about a third larger than the domestic cat, 
of a pale yellow, and marked with dark 
stripes and patches. The expression of its 
face is very mild and pleasing. Don Felix 
D'Azara, a Spanish gentleman who resided 
a long time in Brazil, and who has left a 
very interesting account of his travels and 
observations, saw a number of these animals, 
and gives a very full account of them. He 
states that, though the species is very com- 
mon, it is seldom met with, owing to its very 
shy habits ; and he doubts whether any ani- 
mal conceals itself more effectually. He 
describes it as 'remaining b}^ day in the 
most impenetrable places, and as coming 
forth after nightfall, especially upon dark 
stormj' nights, when the chibiguazuas,' as 
they are called, daringly enter the corrals 
and court-yards, — though no instance is 



THE CHATI. 79 



known of their detection by the dogs. 
When the moon shines, they abstain from 
entering inhabited spots, and are never 
trapped. To lie in wait for them with a gun 
is hopeless, so sharp a watch do they keep. 
They carry off fowls from trees which they 
climb, often six in one night, and some- 
times leave several dead. Men and dogs 
are avoided by them with extreme caution ; 
and each pair is supposed to live in a sepa- 
rate district, for one male and one female, 
and no more, are always caught in one 
place. D'Azara's friend. Father Noseda, 
formed a trap of strong stakes wdth three 
divisions, — in the middle one of which he 
placed a white fowl, so that it might not 
only be heard but seen at a distance. The 
other divisions were so arranged as to be 
shut by the falling of planks as soon as the 
chatis entered. These traps were set in 
those places to which they resorted for prey; 
and those caught were turned into a great 
den in Father Ifoseda's court-yard. Some 
of them got away and were taken two or 
three times in the same trap, — from which 
D'Azara infers that the idea of danger was 



80 THE CHATI. 



obliterated from their recollection by their 
desire to possess the fowls." 

" Perhaps they thought that because they 
had been successful in getting away once 
they were too cunning to be caught again," 
observed Kate. 

" Perhaps so ; but, as they all were caught 
at last, they would have been wiser had 
they been contented with their first escape." 

"Is there any more about them?" asked 
Sidney. "How did they act when they 
were all put into the den together? I 
should think they would have quarrelled." 

"On the contrary, they were all very 
peaceable and good-humoured," replied his 
aunt. "Nearly the whole day was spent by 
them coiled up in a ball, asleep ; and when 
a chati wished to stretch himself he first 
licked the one at his side. When straw was 
put into their den or so placed that they could 
reach it by thrusting their paws through the 
bars, it was always found on the day follow- 
ing that they had placed it in a heap, after 
having divided it into bits about a quarter 
of an inch long; and on this they reposed. 
Twilight and night were passed by them in 
pacing to and fro across their den ; and, if 



TEE CHATI. 81 



crossed or interrupted by another, they 
puffed and gesticulated like an angry cat, 
but never used their paws. They never 
quarrelled with each other unless they were 
very much irritated, and then they struck 
at each other with their fore-paws. They 
devoured five pounds of flesh a day when 
first caught; but afterwards three suflaced. 
A portion was prepared for each of the 
twelve or fourteen creatures confined, and 
they took it with their paws, according to. 
the length of time they had been confined, 
without any interference on the part of the 
others. If, however, the animal w^hose turn 
it was did not take his portion, or dis- 
regarded it, another immediately snatched 
it, without any resistance on the part of the 
rightful owner, except by sneezmg, and 
sometimes by blows with the fore-paws. A 
walk was made for them, enclosed by a sort 
of hurdle, so that rats, ducks, fowls and 
young dogs could be introduced into it; 
and upon opening their cage it was usually 
noticed that only one went out for each 
victim, and almost always according to the 
order of their confinement. jSTo cruelty was 
manifested ; and sometimes they would allow 



82 THE CHATI. 



their prey to remain unmolested for several 
days. D'Azara and his friend frequently 
closed the doors of the yard, and opened the 
den, that the animals might leave it. Those 
lately caught went first ; and sometimes the 
old ones would not go out, even when the 
den was entered that it might be swept. 
They were left at liberty for several hours, 
during which they examined every crevice 
and then lay down to sleep. When boys 
teased them with sticks, they retreated to 
their dens without turning on their perse- 
cutors, even when severely beaten. A male 
on one occasion, becoming very lazy, was 
abused and bitten by his female mate, as if 
to punish him. In the night their eyes 
shone like those of the domestic cat; and 
they resembled that animal in lying down, 
in licking and cleansing themselves, wash- 
ing their faces with their paws, puffing, 
sneezing, and in many other ways. D'Azara 
states that his friend caught a young one, 
and it became so thoroughly tame that it 
slept in the skirt of his clerical robe and 
-svent about loose. He represented that no 
animal could be more tractable ; but it de- 



TIGER-CATS. 83 



stroyecl the poultry of his neighbours, and 
they killed it." 

"How sorry he must have been!" said 
Annie. " It would have been better to keep 
it chained up. It seems as though they need 
not have killed it." 

"I rather think if they had been your 
chickens you would have felt diiferently," 
observed Richard. "It does not seem to 
me that any one has a right to keep pets 
which interfere with the comfort or pro- 
perty of neighbours." 

"I think not, decidedly," said Miss Win- 
ston. 

" Did you ever see any of these tiger-cats, 
aunt?" asked Daisy. 

"I once saw an animal in a menagerie," 
replied Miss Winston, "which I think must 
have been a margay, as I remember it, — 
though I had not at that time paid much at- 
tention to such things. It was very little larger 
than a well-grown domestic cat, with a very 
long tail. Its skin was of a pale-buff or fawn 
colour, with black bands, and the under 
parts were white. It inhabited the same 
cage with a fine large hawk, with which it 
seemed to live on the most intimate and 



84 FOOD or ANIMALS. 



friendly relations, and looked, as it lay 
washing its face on some straw, like a very 
large, good-natured, rather lazy, tortoise- 
shell cat. Its claws were very strong, and 
its paws more muscular than those of ordi- 
nary cats. The keeper said that it was very 
good-tempered. I do not know of any other 
tiger-cats inhabiting America, except the 
pampas cat, which still more strongly re- 
sembles the domestic cat." 

''But what do all these wild creatures 
live upon?" asked Richard. ''It does not 
seem as though there could be animals 
euougli to furnish food for all of them." 

"Oh, my dear, you do not reflect upon 
the great amount of animal life inhabiting 
those great forests and plains. Think of the 
countless numbers of monkeys alone. Hum- 
boldt saw hundreds at a time going in long 
procession from tree to tree, besides great 
herds of peccaries, (which are animals of the 
pig-kind,) capybaras, guinea-pigs, and the 
different species of hares, not to mention 
birds and reptiles. When you reflect upon 
the solitary habits both of the chati and 
ocelot, — only one pair inhabiting a large 
district, in which are hundreds of monkeys 



TROPICAL FORESTS. 85 



alone,— yon can easily see that, with, their 
cnnning and dexterity in climbing trees, 
they are not likely to want for food." 

"How^I shonld like to see tropical forests !" 
said Kate Crediton, musingly. " I think if 
I were a man I would like to be a professor 
of botany or natural history, and go off on 
an exploring-expedition, like Dr. Darwin 
in the Beagle, to discover new animals and 
plants. I think it would be the most de- 
lightful life in the world." 

"It would have its drawbacks, probably, 
like all other modes of life," said Miss 
Louisa; ''but I agree with you, Kate, that 
it must be very pleasant. There is some- 
thing exceedingly fascinating, not merely in 
making new discoveries, but also in veri- 
fying yourself the discoveries that others 
have made before you. • You know that by 
experience, Kate, in the little that you have 
studied of botany. There is a great pleasure 
— is there not ? — in counting the stamens and 
pistils in a flower and comparing them with 
the descriptions in your book and thus 
finding out the name. Nobody knows how 
much they lose by not informing themselves 
on the very common things that are round 

8 



86 TROPICAL FORESTS. 



about them. But I share in your desire to 
see tropical vegetation especially. I should 
like to go through one of those Brazilian 
forests, where the most beautiful air-plants 
grow and blossom upon the stems of the 
trees, and where the great Lianas or creep- 
ing vines, as large round as your arm, throw 
themselves from tree to tree in long fes- 
toons, affording means of passage to the 
troops of monkeys. Here you may see, in 
the shady damp places, great tree-ferns, 
sometimes forty feet high, some of them 
having their trunks covered with down, 
others with scales, others again with a white 
metallic-lgoking powder, all graceful and 
peculiar in their shape as the small ferns 
which you admire so much in our own 
woods. The air is perfumed with the smell 
of vanilla and other fragrant plants; and in 
every place are hundreds of the most beauti- 
ful and singular insects, which fill the air 
with their various notes. But there are 
plenty of other sounds besides the hum of in- 
sects. The assemblies of howling monkeys 
chaunt their doleful choruses on the tree- 
tops, especially before rain, and the parrots 
add their shrill voices. Troops of peccaries 



FOREST MUSIC. 87 



pass, grunting and squeaking, through the 
underbrush, and now and then is heard the 
hoarse voice of the great American jaguar, 
— the tiger of this continent; and, if it be 
on the banks of a great river, the alligators 
add their hollow roaring voices to the con- 
cert. Mght, instead of being the season of 
quiet, is the time of the greatest uproar ; 
and he is a good sleeper who can gain any 
repose within hearing of it." 

''What a horrible place!" said Daisy. 
"It is enough to frighten one just to hear- 
of it. I am sure I don't want to be a pro- 
fessor, if one would have to go poking into 
tigers' dens and such places." 

''I don't suppose any one has to go if 
they don't want to," said Annie. "I don't 
believe Professor D. ever went looking for 
adventures in that way, though he does lec- 
ture upon Natural History." 

" ISTo ; but they might go if they wanted 
to, and if they could get anybody like the 
Government to send them," remarked Sid- 
ney. '' Sometimes people go who are not 
professors, — just for fun. And, aunt, if 
ever you feel as if you would like to go 
wandering about the world, you need not 



88 THE QUESTION. 



blame a boy like me for wanting to be a 
sailor." 

"I don't blame j^ou at all, my dear, for 
wanting to go. I sympathize with you 
entirely. But you know the question is 
not always so much what we want to do as 
what we ought to do. I have no doubt at 
all that, if it is best for you to go, the way 
will be opened; and, in the mean time, 
the more you learn, especially of jS'atural 
Science, the more you will be able to enjoy 
your travels yourself and make them useful 
and interesting to others." 

Any talk about Sidney's going to sea 
was always the signal for Annie to put on 
her dark face, as the children called it. 
She never could bear to hear it talked of, 
and had once made Sidney very angry by 
telling him that she knew he had not much 
love for them or he would not be so anxious 
to run away from all his friends. She now 
hastened to bring the conversation back to 
its former channel. 

"We have wandered a long way from 
our cats," said she, in a tone which she 
meant should sound just as usual, but which 
was a little constrained in spite of her. 



THE SERVALS. 89 



^' Are there any other tiger-eats, aunt, be- 
sides those in South America?" 

"Yes, several. There is a small variety, 
inhabiting Java and Sumatra, which are as 
beautiful as the ocelot and margay, and 
considerably smaller. They are said by the 
natives to possess great sagacity, and to have 
the power of imitating the voices of fowls 
and other birds in order that they may ap- 
proach them unobserved. They are especially 
wild and fierce, and can never be tamed, either 
by hunger, darkness, or kind treatment. Mr. 
Tenminck, a celebrated traveller and natu- 
ralist, kept two of them for two years ; but, 
though he tried every means to gain their 
confidence, they always remained crouched 
in the darkest corner of their den, and 
never came out unless pressed by hunger. 

" There are also the servals, of which there 
are several varieties, one of which is of a 
deep-brown colour. They are all about the 
same size, — that of a small leopard, — and 
seem to be rather gentle and amiable in 
their temper. One which Mr. Frederick 
Cuvier describes was very gentle and aflfec- 
tionate, ' and sported entirely after the man- 
ner of a common cat, attempting often to 



90 daisy's fright. 



catch its tail, and playing with whatever it 
could roll about with its foot.' Thej^ in- 
habit both Africa and Asia; and their skins 
are often brought to this country. And 
now, I think, we must let our cats rest for 
to-night, as we have sat up much later than 
usual." 

Annie and Kate were to sleep in the 
large bed in the nursery, and Daisy in a 
little bed which stood across the room and 
close by a window. For a wonder, she 
seemed unwilUng to go to bed, and lingered 
fidgeting about till Annie began to be out 
of patience with her. 

'' Do get into bed, Daisy, and let me put 
the light out. The room will be full of 
bugs and all sorts of things." 

Daisy obeyed without making any an- 
swer ; and presently the girls heard her crying 
softly. Annie jumped up and went to her. 

"What is it, Daisy? What makes you 
cry ? Are you sick ?" 

Daisy shook her head, but kept fast hold 
of Annie's hand. " What is it, then ? Do 
you want any thing? or are you afraid?" 

Daisy sobbed that she couldn't help it. 

"Do you mind having her sleep in the 



daisy's fright, 91 



bed with us, Kate?" asked Annie, after a 
little perplexity. ^'The bed is wide, and she 
will be satisfied then. She gets frightened 
so easily. I almost wish aunt had not 
begun to tell us these stories ; for they run 
in her mind all the time." 

Kate made room with great readiness. 
She had scarcely known the sensation of 
fear herself, but she saw that Daisv was 
very uncomfortable, and that was enough 
to win her sympathy. " What makes you 
so timid, Daisy?" she asked, after the little 
girl was settled between them. "You 
know there isn't any thing here to hurt 
you, don't you?" 

"Yes," sighed Daisy ; " but it seems just 
as if there was ; and very often, when I am 
in the dark, or going through the hall 
alone, it seems as if some one was just 
ready to catch me, and my heart beats so I 
don't know what to do. I know it is fool- 
ish, and I try to help it; but I can't." 

" Well, never mind," said Annie. "You 
know the doctor and Aunt Louisa both 
say you will get over it when you are older. 
Now we will all say the evening hymn to- 
gether and not think any more about it." 



92 daisy's fright. 



Before the hymn was finished, Daisy was 
fast asleep. 

"It is a pity she is such a coward/' said 
Kate, in a whisper. '^I wonder if she 
could not be cured of it?" 

" Dr. Moore thinks she will outgrow it," 
replied Annie. "We never notice it if we 
can help it ; and she tries very hard not to 
show it: so we know it is not aftectation." 

" How did it begin ?" asked Kate. " Did 
any one tell her frightful stories ?" 

''Oh, no ! She was always just so. She 
used to cry when it came dark, before she 
was old enough to speak ; but she has been 
a great deal better the last year. Aunt 
thinks she was much injured by the way she 
was managed at Aunt Meredith's. She 
and Sidney went there to spend the summer; 
and Aunt Meredith made her go to bed 
alone in the dark, and did not mind her 
crying, except to scold and laugh at her. 
So she left off complaining; but she looked 
so unwell that Sidney finally wrote to Aunt 
Louisa, and aunt went and brought her 
home. She had fits after she came ; and Dr. 
Moore said a little more of such treatment 
would have injured her very much." 



FOOLISH FRIGHTS. 93 



" I wonder that any person that knew what 
fear is would treat a child so," replied Kate. 
''I am not much of a coward myself; but I 
know it is any thing but a pleasant feeling." 

" The worst of it was, that Aunt Meredith 
is a real coward herself," said Annie, "and 
is afraid of the most foolish things, such as 
Daisy would not think of crying for. She 
made the greatest fuss last summer you 
ever heard of, because there was a little 
striped snake in the garden. She would 
not go out for two or three days. And she 
screams at toads and mice, that never hurt 
anybody. Daisy is very bold about real 
danger. The day the horses ran away, she 
never moved nor cried, but sat as still as a 
mouse till they were stopped. It is always 
something she don't know about, or some- 
thing she has heard or read, that troubles 
her. I dare say she was thinking of that 
story of the ocelot killing the little French 
girl, till she felt as though there was one 
under the bed, just ready to catch her by 
the throat." 

"Poor thing!" said Kate, sleepily. "I 
hope — she will — get over it !" And the three 
were all asleep ! 



94 DAISY ALONE. 



CHAPTER IV. 

THE LEOPARDS. 

The next morning, soon after breakfast, 
Kate returned to the village, whither Annie 
accompanied her, intending to spend the 
day and return when the family came from 
the weekly lecture at the church, which 
they always attended on Wednesday even- 
ing. Dick and Sidney also disappeared, 
without telling any one, except Aunt Louisa, 
where they were going : so that Daisy had 
the house to herself. This, however, did not 
trouble her at all, for she was very easily 
amused, and was so quiet and obedient 
that she was a welcome companion to every- 
body, — whether she sat on a stool by her 
grandfather's feet, looking at pictures or 
reading, or went about the house with Aunt 
Louisa to attend to the housekeeping, or 
climbed up in one of the high kitchen- 




The Iieopard. 



p. 84. 



A VICTORY. 95 



chairs to watch the cook making cake and 
pastry. Daisy was ^^such a good girl," as 
every one in the house said. She was never 
in the way. So she passed her morning 
very pleasantly, — first in learning very ex- 
actly the arithmetic and geography lessons 
(very little lessons, to-be-sure, they were) 
which she recited to Aunt Louisa every 
day, and then in washing out her doll's 
clothes in a nice little tub which the cook 
used to lend her for the purpose. In the 
course of her laundry-work, Daisy gained 
quite a victory over herself; for, chancing 
to want one of Miss Dolly's frocks which 
she had left up-stairs in the nursery-closet, 
she actually went up alone and got it, 
though the upper hall was quite dark and 
there was nobody in that part of the house. 
But, though she felt pleased wdth herself, 
she told nobody; for she was very much 
ashamed of her fears, and did not like to 
have any one know that she was afraid. 
So, on the whole, she enjoyed her solitary 
morning very much. 

Richard and Sidney had been up betimes, 
and had learned their holiday-lessons before 
breakfast; and as soon as that meal was 



96 VISIT TO JACK SHORT. 



over, and Aunt Louisa bad prepared a cer- 
tain basket, tbey slipped off ver}^ quietly, 
witbout even bidding Kate good-morning, — 
an omission for wbicb they were duly called 
to account in tbe evening by Annie, who 
declared that she never saw any thing like 
it, — though she must have seen a number of 
things very similar. The fact was, that 
Richard and Sidney were going to the saw- 
mill to see Jack Short; and, as they had 
not the least idea what sort of reception 
they were likely to meet with, they thought 
it best to say nothing of their intention till 
afterwards. The boys had talked the mat- 
ter over the night before, and agreed that 
the best way of doing Jack good, or, at least, 
showing him that they bore no malice, was 
to go at once and see him, w^ithout waiting 
till the family sent up to The Meadows, as 
they were pretty sure to do in the end. At 
first Sidney did not like the idea of going. 
He was still very angry at Jack whenever 
he thought of the kitten or saw the red 
scar on Richard's fair forehead ; though this 
feeling gave way a little when he remem- 
bered the poor boy's suflerings. He thought 
it would be better to wait and let Jack say 



A WISE DECISION. 97 



he was sorry, or make some ■ other ac- 
knowledgment, before visiting him. Eich- 
ard was of a difierent opinion. 

" We are in the right/' said he ; '^ and, for 
that very reason, we can afford to speak first. 
I believe when one person has injured an- 
other it is a good deal easier for the injured 
one to forgive than for the injurer." 

"How like a book you talk, Dick!" said 
Sidney, half in laugh and half in admira- 
tion. " I believe you are right, though. But 
won't it look as if we wanted to triumph 
over him if we go to see him without any 
errand ? I would not like to hurt his feel- 
ings, though he is such a fellow." 

''We'll manage all that nicely," replied 
Dick. "We'll get aunt to fix up some- 
thing nice for him, — as she is always doing, 
you know, — and carry it down there our- 
selves. Then it will be the most natural thing 
in the world to ask for Jack ; and he need 
not see us if he does not want to. ^Perhaps 
he will be glad to see us. Then, if he chooses 
to make any apology, he can; and, if not, he 
can let it alone. I don't care whether he 
does or not." 

"Kor I," said Sidney. "After all, as 

9 



98 GOOD DEVISED. 



Mr. Crecliton says, he has never had much 
chance. He is smart enough, too: I never 
saw any boy that had more ingenuity in 
making things. You know that model of 
a saw-mill that he built last summer. 
Grandfather said it was a real curiosity. 
If he would only behave himself and go to 
school, he might be a great mechanic." 

^•Perhaps we may be able to do some- 
thing about that too," replied Richard. ''I 
don't believe he will be about again very soon; 
and perhaps he may get a taste for read- 
ing while he is laid up. At any rate, we shall 
show our good will by going to see him." 

Accordingly, they set out the next morn- 
ing, carrying a basket containing certain 
matters which Aunt Louisa's experience 
pronounced might be good for the poor boy. 
Walking leisurely along, they arrived in 
due time at Mr. Short's dwelling, which 
was built near the mill, upon the sloping 
side of a hill commanding a fine prospect, 
which the inmates appreciated about as much 
as their own pigs might have done. It was a 
brown frame house, in pretty good condition 
so far as repairs went, but with a want of neat- 
ness and comeliness about it which was really 



jack's house. ^9 



painful. A yard had been fenced in about 
the door and planted with shrubs ; but many 
of the boards were gone from the fence. 
The sow wandered in and out at her own 
will ; and nothing seemed to have survived 
but a hardy cinnamon rose, and a lilac, which 
at present served as clothes-horses to sus- 
tain various wet garments of doubtful as- 
pect, and some stockings so ragged that 
it w^as a wonder how the owners ever found 
the right way into them. A vegetable-patch 
near at hand fared rather better; but even 
this was weedy and ill arranged, and not 
nearly so productive as it might have been 
under better management. 

Mr. Short did not own the place : if he 
had, perhaps he would have taken better 
care of it. He ^^ tended" the saw-mill for 
Mr. Winston, to whom it belonged, and 
who had made many efforts to improve the 
condition of his tenants or induce them to 
improve it for themselves. Short w^as a 
good workman under active superintend- 
ence : he was perfectly honest and gene- 
rally sober, and, in a rough way, fond of his 
children ; but it seemed as though all his 
energies were expended upon his landlord's 



100 jack's parents. 



business, for lie had little left for his own. 
He had one great misfortune, — an ill- 
tempered, gossiping and untidy wife. Mrs. 
Short had, as some of her neighbours said, 
no " faculty.'' She had never learned a great 
deal of housekeeping in her youth; and 
what little she had learned she seemed to 
have forgotten. It is said of some people 
that they never do any thing by halves. 
Mrs. Short, on the contrarj^, never half did 
any thing. The clothes she made for her 
children came to pieces directly, and were 
never whole or clean. '' She could not get 
time," she said, ^'to fix up her children as 
some people did." She could not get time 
to comb their Tiiair, or wash them clean, or 
get them ready for church, for Sunday or 
day schools, — to see that they did not tell 
lies, or swear, or take what did not belong to 
them. Jack, who was growing a great boy, 
she was glad to keep out of the house on 
any terms ; and Sarah Anne (a really well- 
disposed child, who would gladly have gone 
to school regularly) was kept at home as 
much as three days in the week, while her 
mother "just ran in to the neighbours' " or 
" went to the village on an errand ;" for, with 



jack's sister. 101 



all her complaints of want of time, she 
never lacked time to go out visiting. Her 
husband declared that she spent more hours 
in her neighbours' houses than she did in 
her own; and some of the neighbours 
thought so too. Meantime her dinner 
spoiled over the fire and her bread burned 
in the oven. Nothing was comfortable in 
the place, inside or out. Was it any won- 
der that her husband had an occasional 
drunken spree, or that Jack never stayed at 
home when he could stay anywhere else, 
or that Sarah Anne (who was the best of the 
set) was growing up almost as shiftless, 
though not quite so ignorant, as her mother ? 

Sidney and Richard made their way round 
to the back-door, and knocked several times 
without success. At last, as they were de- 
bating what to do, Sarah Anne opened it. 
She had the baby in her arms, and looked 
slatternly and weary enough. 

^^ Mother has stepped out for a minute," 
said she ; "and father is down at the mill, if 
you want to see him." 

"We came to see Jack," said Sidney, 
rather bashfully, — for he had a boyish dread 
of strange girls of all sorts. " We heard he 



102 THE boys' interview. 



was sick; and Aunt Louisa has sent him 
some things to eat." 

"Oh!" replied the girl, looking a good 
deal surprised, but rather gratified. '' Come 
in, then. I dare say he will like to see you," 
She led the way through a little labyrinth, 
composed of washing-tub and pounding- 
barrel, both full of dirty suds, a churn, and a 
table still covered with the remains of 
breakfast, and, opening an inner door, she 
introduced them : — " Here's somebody come 
to see you. Jack." 

Jack turned his eyes in the direction of 
the door. His flushed face flushed still 
more when he saw who it was, and it 
seemed as though he would have liked to 
turn away ; but the cruel disease had fixed 
his head as in a vice, and the least move- 
ment caused him intense pain. 

"I am very sorry to find you so sick," 
said Richard, kindly, taking a seat by the 
bedside. "We did not know it till yester- 
day ; and we thought we would come up 
and see if you wanted any thing. Aunt 
has sent you some jelly and things." 

" Thank you," said Jack, — rather shortly. 
5e was not much used to saying these 



KIND DEEDS. 103 



words, which was perhaps the reason that 
they seemed to come with difficulty. 

"Can we do any thing for you?" said 
Eichard, whose anger had all vanished at 
the sight of Jack's suffering. "Don't you 
want some ice-water ? "We have brought a 
piece of ice ; and aunt says you can have 
more if you like." 

Jack's eyes sparkled, and he put his fever- 
ish lips together. "I have wanted some 
cold water so much!" he said. "Nothing 
else tastes natural to me ; and it gets warm 
so soon standing in the house." 

The girl brought some water in a pail, to 
put the ice in. It had been standing since 
before breakfast, she said ; but the babj^ had 
worried so she could not go to the spring 
for more. Sidney took the pail and went 
after it himself. He was glad to get out of 
the house, and out of the sight of Jack's 
face, which made him feel as if he wanted 
to cry. Jack long remembered the sound 
of the ice tinkling against the side of the 
tumbler as the pleasantest music he had 
ever heard. "Oh, how good that is!" he 
said, after he had managed with some diffi- 
culty to raise himself enough to drink. 



104 SIGNS OF PENITENCE. 



^' Thank you, boys!" This "thank you'' 
seemed to come easier than the last. 

" If you have any thing to do," said Rich- 
ard, turning to the girl, "we will sit here 
with Jack till your mother comes." She 
gladly accepted the offer; and, the baby 
being by this time asleep, she was soon heard 
making a great clattering among the dishes 
outside. Richard and Sidney smoothed the 
bed as well as they knew how, shook up the 
pillow, and opened a window to admit the 
fresh air, which was much needed, and then 
sat down, feeling rather awkward now that 
there was no more to be done. 

Jack first broke the silence. " What has 
become of that cat?" he asked. ^ "That 
kitten, you know?" 

"She is at our house," replied Sidney, 
" and we are going to keep her. She is a 
pretty little thing, as full of fun as she can 
be." 

"I have been sorry about that ever since," 
said Jack, without looking up. "I didn't 
mean to hit you, Dick. Now, really I didn't !" 

"You need not mind about that," replied 
Richard. "It is well now; and, to speak 
plainly, Jack, I don't think that was half so 



jack's feaes. 105 



bad as treating the poor kitten so. I wonder 
how you or any of us would feel to be put 
helpless into a boat and then hunted with 
bloodhounds. How did you like it when 
Mr. Stoke's bull chased you through the 
pasture? You didn't find it very good fun, 
did you?" 

"• You don't suppose they feel as we do, — 
cats and dogs, and such creatures ?" 

" I suppose thej' feel very nearly as badly. 
"Why not ? Just think how the poor little 
thing tried to get away, and how pitifully 
she mewed. And think how a deer will run, 
or any hunted animal, to save his life." 

'' Well, I know," said Jack. '' I've thought 
about that too, since I have lain here on 
my back. I never was sick before ; and it 
seems as if last week was the longest I ever 
knew. Sometimes I think I shall never get 
well," said he, lowering his voice: ^'I know 
I am very sick, and I don't seem to get 
any better. Do you know what the doctor 
thinks ? I know he told Mr. Crediton some- 
thing about me yesterday ; but I didn't dare 
to ask him. Did he tell you?" Richard 
and Sidney looked at each other. 

"I don't know exactly what he thinks, 



106 jack's regrets. 



Jack," said Richard, rather embarrassed: 
''only he says you are very sick. But, at 
any rate, it won't do you any harm to think 
about dying. You know we must all die 
some time; and I suppose it doesn't make 
much difference when, if we are only ready." 

'' But it's very hard to die and go you don't 
know where ! Oh, if I can only get well, I 
will try to be a better boy." 

Richard was very much moved. '' You 
want a better heart to be a better boy. Jack," 
replied Richard : " you must ask God to give 
you this. Mr. Crediton can teach you better 
than I can, and he will be glad to teach you, 
I know ; but you don't want any teaching to 
say, ' God be merciful to me, a sinner,' and 
that prayer from the heart will be heard." 

''Do you suppose your aunt would come 
and see me ?" asked Jack, with some hesita- 
tion. "I know she thinks I am a very bad 
boy ; but it seems to me as if it would do me 
good to have her talk to me. I am so ig- 
norant! I wish I had gone to Sunday-school 
when I was well, and then I should not have 
it all to learn now. Do you think she would ?" 

"I am sure she would, in a minute," said 
Sidney, " and be very glad to come. We 



MRS. SHORT. - 107 



will tell her as soon as we get home ; and 
perhaps she will come this afternoon." 

Jack seemed very thankful ; and the boys 
now took their leave, promising to come 
again soon. As they were going down the hill 
in front of the house, they met Mrs. Short, 
in a dirty, torn calico dress, coming up. 

"Do tell, boys, if you've been to our 
house!" she said. "If I'd known I was 
going to have company, I'd have picked up a 
little; but Jack's being sick puts me about 
so I don't seem to have time for nothing." 

Sidney only wondered whether any one 
could be so sick as to keep her in the house. 

"Jack is very ill," he observed. 

"Yes: he's dreadful bad by spells; and it 
is a sight of work to take care of him. He's 
dreadful troublesome when he's sick. I 
■'hope he won't be down long, I'm sure." 

The boys bade her good-morning, and 
went on their way, — Sidney for once very 
silent. "Isn't it queer, Dick," he observed 
at last, "that Jack should be so frightened 
at the idea of dying ? I always thought he 
would not be afraid of any thing. I have 
seen him run across the mill-dam twenty 
times when the water was so deep in it that 



108 FEAR OF DEATH. 



he could hardly keep his feet; and he is 
always doing the most reckless things." 

" That is no sign he should not be afraid 
of dying," replied Eichard. " I can tell you, 
it is a very different thing doing such a thing 
as that, with people to look at you, from 
lying awake and alone, night after night, 
with nothing to think of but death staring 
you in the face, and coming a little nearer, 
and a little nearer, every breath you draw." 

^'To-be-sure!" said Sidney: ''it seems 
very much harder." 

"And yet," continued Richard, musinglj^, 
" how many people — especially women — die 
happy and don't seem to mind it much ! that 
is, they mind it, of course, and think of those 
they leave behind, — but they don't fear it, 
and they seem to die as they go to sleep." 

"I suppose they are helped," said Sidney, 
in a low^ voice. He knew that Richard was 
thinking of his own mother's death. ' " I hope 
if Jack does get well he will be a better boy," 
he continued, after a pause. "It does seem 
as if he had some good in him, don't it? And 
that Sarah Anne looks as if she wouki be a 
nice girl if she only had any chance for her 
life. Did you ever see such a looking house ? 



A GOOD NURSE. 109 



Old Waterman's cabin in the woods is a 
palace to it." 

Miss Winston went up to see Jack in the 
afternoon, and found him no better. He 
was in great pain, and could not move with- 
out groaning and even screaming ; and his 
fever and thirst were excessive. Miss Win- 
ston did much more for him than the boys 
had been able to do. She hung up a curtain, 
which darkened the room and kept the flies 
out, took part of the clothes off* the bed and 
arranged the rest so as to be more comfort- 
able, and put clean, cool, linen pillow-cases 
upon the dirty and tumbled pillows. She 
washed his face and hands in warm water 
and dried them without hurting him, and 
combed his tangled hair, — not a very plea- 
sant task, for poor Jack's habits were far from 
neat. All this made the poor boy a great 
deal more comfortable; but it could not do 
away with the general air of discomfort and 
untidiness which belonged to the house 
and every thing in it. She ventured to 
give Mrs. Short some friendly hints, which 
were not very graciously, received, and were 
never acted upon by herself at least, — though 
Sarah Anne treasured them up and endea- 



110 JACK IS GRATEFUL. 



vourecl to reduce them to practice. Mrs. 
Short thought her housekeeping " as good as 
her neighbours/ considering." 

Miss Winston had very little talk with 
Jack. She found him so excited by fever and 
the fear of death that it seemed as though a 
very little more would be enough to throw 
him oft' his balance entirel3^ She contented 
herself with reading to him a little out of the 
lioly Gospels, and in praying with him, — 
after which she left him, promising to come 
and see him again soon. Jack felt, somehow, 
that the very sight of her did him good, — 
that the sound of her crutch and her lame 
step was music to his ears. He wished there 
was any thing in the world he could do for 
the family to lighten a little his load of grati- 
tude ; and, pondering over the matter, he 
began to dream, about it, and finally fell 
into the first refreshing sleep he had enjoyed 
since his fever came on. 

All the family went to the village to 
church in the evening : so the lecture was 
postponed to the next day. Miss Winston 
and Annie went .up to see Jack in the 
morning, and found him rather better. The 
house was somewhat improved in appear- 



THE LEOPARD. Ill 



ance, tliough. Annie, who bad never been 
tbere before, pronounced it the dirtiest place 
she ever saw; and Sarah Anne had been 
washing her brother's face and combing his 
hair, as she had seen it done the day before. 
Miss Winston commended her nursing, and 
asked her to come up to The Meadows after 
dinner and get some things for Jack, pro- 
mising to send some more ice,-— the only 
thing he seemed to care for. 

When they met in the evening, it seemed 
at first as though the sick boy's case would 
exclude every other topic of conversation ; 
and it was not till Annie had several times 
reminded the boys that the evening was 
slipping away that they composed them- 
selves to listen. 

'' The leopard, and its near relation the 
panther," said Miss Louisa, '^ abound princi- 
pally in Africa and Asia, where they have 
always been found in great numbers from the 
earliest times. In the days of the Roman 
Empire, when the cruel games of the amphi- 
theatre flourished, multitudes of these beau- 
tiful animals were every year sacrificed to 
the bloodthirsty tastes of the populace, who 
looked on with delight from their secure seats 



112 THE LEOPARD. 



while hundreds of wild animals fought and 
tore each other to pieces in the arena below.'' 

" What cruel wretches !" exclaimed Annie. 
" Did the women look on too ?" 

" Yes : men, women and children, thou- 
sands at a time ; and not only did they de- 
light in the spectacle of wild-beast combats, 
but they had the greatest pleasure in seeing 
men who were trained for the purpose fight 
with the animals and with each other ; and 
the most high-bred women gazed with inte- 
rest on the dying agonies of their fellow- 
creatures, and even condemned them to 
death when called upon to give the signal for 
mercy. Thousands of the early saints and 
martyrs of the church were put to death in 
this way. Among the many wild animals 
employed on these occasions the leopard 
and panther figured largely, — two or three 
hundred — and on one occasion five hundred 
— ^being let loose at once." 

''I did not know the leopard and panther 
were at all alike," observed Sidney. ''I 
thought the panther was a native of this 
country." 

''The puma or cougar is commonly called 
the panther," said Miss Louisa; "and the 




The Fuma. 



p. 112. 



THE LEOPARD. 113 



name is frequently corrupted into ^painter.' 
It is, however, a very different animal, as 
you will see when we come to examine them 
both. Between the panther and the leopard 
there seems to be some confusion. Almost 
all naturalists, however, are of the opinion 
that they are distinct species, though it seems 
rather difficult to distinguish between them. 
The general colour of the leopard is yel- 
lowish, becoming white underneath, and 
marked with many black spots, v/hich vary 
in size and arrangement. Those on the 
head, neck, a part of the shoulders and the 
limbs, are full, small, and placed close to 
each other in a confused manner; those on 
the body are arranged four or :^ve together 
in a rose-like form, the parts surrounded 
by these circles of spots being of a deeper 
colour than the rest of the skin. Ten of 
these ringed spots, which are said to re- 
semble the print of the animal's foot in the 
sand, may be counted in a perpendicular line 
from the top of the back to the under part 
of the body. The back of the ear is black, 
with a white spot in the middle ; there is an- 
other white spot over the eye, and a black 
one at the opening of the lips. The pan- 



ic- 



114 BLACK LEOPARDS. 



ther seems to differ principally in being 
more stronglj^ made, in having the black 
spots arranged with more regularity, and in 
possessing a longer tail. The length of 
the animal from which this description was 
taken was five feet four inches from the 
nose to the tip of the tail, the tail itself 
being two feet three inches. I have seen 
some smaller than this, and at least one 
which was considerably larger. It is said 
that the animal is sometimes found black, 
with the spots of a deeper shade ; and I have 
seen an animal which the showman called 
the black African panther, which was of a 
glossy black all over. I did not observe any 
spots. It was very fierce and sullen, and 
remained for the most part coiled up in one 
corner of its den. The keeper said it was 
the most intractable animal he had ever had 
the charge of, and drew an unfavourable 
comparison between its manners and those 
of a large lion next door, which he avow^ed 
could do any thing but talk. Cuvier says 
that these black leopards are sometimes 
found in the same litter as the yellow ones; 
and some travellers profess to have seen 
white ones, — apparently a kind of albinos. 



HUNTING THE PANTHER. 115 



"In a wild state, these animals seem to in- 
habit thick coverts and deep retired forests, 
and are much more seldom seen than their 
lordly cousins the tigers. They are exceed- 
ingly active, climbing like cats, and chasing 
the monkeys to the topmost branches of the 
trees with the greatest ease. They are very 
fond of sheep and poultry, and carry off 
many dogs, for whose flesh they seem to 
have a great partiality. 

"In India they are sometimes hunted 
with elephants, like the tiger ; but the ordi- 
nary way of destroying them is by traps set 
in the places to which they are known to 
resort for prey. If hunted by dogs, they 
usually take to a tree, and are then easily 
shot. They are often taken alive and 
brought to this country and to England, 
and seem to care less for confinement than 
any of the cat-kind. Some of them become 
so tame as to allow almost any liberties to 
be taken with them. They differ very much 
in their dispositions, however, as was shown 
by a pair which were kept for a long time 
in the Tower of London. The male, not- 
withstanding the kindest treatment, always 
remained sullen and ferocious ; while the 



116 THE TAME PANTHER. 



female became so tame as to allow the 
keepers to pat and caress her, and even to 
take pleasure in being noticed. She had one 
mischievous propensity, however, — namely, 
a particular fancy for destroying small arti- 
cles of dress, such as hats, muffs, umbrellas, 
and scarfs. These she would snatch with 
the greatest quickness, and then amuse 
herself with tearing them into a hundred 
pieces, all the time as good-natured as pos- 
sible. Their food — ^which was principally 
beef — was usually thrown up in front of 
their den, at least two feet from the bars, 
and they always succeeded in catching it 
before it fell to the ground. 

"There is a very interesting account 
given by Mrs. Bowditch of a panther which 
she brought to England with her, and which 
I will read to you, as it is beautifully told and 
gives a very good idea of the gentleness and 
capacity for attachment of these creatures. 

"'I am induced to give you some account 
of a panther which was in my possession 
for some months. He and another were 
found, when yevy young, in a forest, appa- 
rently deserted by their mother. They 
were taken to the King of Ashantee, in 



THE TAME PANTHER. 117 



whose palace they lived for several weeks, 
when my hero, being much larger than his 
companion, suffocated him in a fit of romp- 
ing, and was then sent to Mr. Hutchinson, 
the resident left by Mr. Bowditch at Comas- 
see. This gentleman, observing that the 
animal was docile, took pains to tame him, 
and in a great measure succeeded. When 
he was about a year old, Mr. Hutchinson re- 
turned to Cape Coast, and had the animal 
led through the country by a chain, occa- 
sionally letting him loose when eating was 
going on, when he would sit by his master's 
side and take his share with comparative 
gentleness. Once or twice he purloined a 
fowl, but easily gave it up to Mr. Hutchin- 
son on being allowed a portion of some- 
thing else. On the day of his arrival, he 
was placed in a small court leading to the 
private rooms of the governor, and, after 
dinner, was led by a thin cord into the room, 
when he received our salutations with some 
degree of roughness, but with perfect good 
humour. Upon the least encouragement, 
he laid his paws upon our shoulders and 
rubbed his head upon us, and, his claws 
having been filed, there was no danger of 



118 THE TAME PANTHER. 



his tearing our clothes. He was kept in 
the court for a week or two, and showed no 
ferocity, except when one of the servants 
tried to pull his food from him, when be 
caught the oflender by the leg and tore out 
a small piece of flesh, but never seemed to 
owe him any ill-will afterwards/ " 

''I wonder what the servant owed him ?" 
said Annie. 

^' He did not owe him any thing. He got 
his pay, and served him right, too," replied 
Sidney. "But go on, if you please, aunt." 

" 'One morning he broke his cord; and, 
the cry being given and the castle-gates shut, 
a chase commenced. After leading his pur- 
suers a few times around the ramparts, and 
knocking down two or three children by 
bouncing against them, he suffered himself 
to be caught and led back to his quarters, 
under one of the guns of the fortress. By 
degrees the fear of him subsided, and, orders 
having been given to the sentinels to pre- 
vent his escape through the gates, he was 
left at libert}^ to go where he pleased, and a 
boy was appointed to prevent his intrusion 
into the apartments of the officers. His 
keeper, however, generally passed his watch 



THE TAME PANTHER. 119 



in sleeping; and Sai — as the panther was 
called, after the royal giver — roamed at 
large. On one occasion he found his ser- 
vant sitting on the step of the door, upright, 
but fast asleep, when he lifted his paw, gave 
him a blow on the side of the head which 
laid him flat, and then stood wagging his 
tail, as though enjoying the mischief he had 
committed. He became exceedingly at- 
tached to the governor, and followed him 
everywhere, like a dog. His favourite sta- 
tion was at the window of a sitting-room 
which overlooked the whole town: there, 
standing on his hind-legs, his fore-paws rest- 
ing on the window-ledge and his head laid 
between them, he appeared to interest him- 
self with what was passing beneath. The 
children also stood w^ith him at the window ; 
and one day, finding his presence an encum- 
brance, and that they could not get their 
chairs close, they used their united efforts 
to pull him down by the tail.' " 

"Think of that, Daisy!" said Richard. 
" How would you like to look out of a win- 
dow alongside of a leopard?" 

"I shouldn't like it at all," said Daisy, 
decidedly ; " and I wouldn't do it. What if 



120 THE TAME PANTHER. 



he had bitten off* their heads, as the ocelot 
did the little French girl's ? I don't beheve 
aunt would let me plaj with a panther if he 
was ever so tame !" 

"NOj my child : I would prefer you should 
have some other playfellow, even if the 
panther were as good-natured as our friend 
Lai, who seems to have been the most 
amiable of animals. 'One morning he 
missed the governor, who was settling a 
dispute in the hall, and who, being sur- 
rounded by black people, was hidden from 
the view of his favourite. Lai wandered 
with a dejected look to various parts of the 
fortress in search of him; and while absent 
on this errand the audience ceased, the go- 
vernor returned to his room, and seated him- 
self at a table to write. Presently he heard 
a heavy step coming up-stairs, and, raising 
his eyes to the open door, beheld Lai ! At 
that moment he gave himself up for lost, 
for Lai immediately sprung from the door on 
his neck. Instead, however, of devouring 
him, he laid his head close to the governor's, 
rubbed his cheek upon his shoulder, wagged 
his tail, and tried to evince his happiness. 
Occasionally, however, the panther caused 



THE TAME PANTHER. 121 



a little alarm to the other inmates of the 
castle, and the old woman who swept the 
floors was made ill by her fright. She was 
one daj^ sweeping the boards of the great 
hall, Avith a short broom, and in an attitude 
approaching to all-fours, when Lai, who 
vras hidden under one of the sofas, suddenly 
leaped upon her back, where he stood in 
triumph. She screamed so violently as to 
summon the other servants ; but they, seeing 
the panther, as they thought, in the act of 
devouring her, one and all scampered off as 
quickly as possible ; nor w^as she relieved till 
the governor, hearing the noise, came to her 
assistance. 

^''Strangers were naturally uncomfort- 
able when they saw so powerful a beast at 
perfect liberty, and manj^ were the ridiculous 
scenes which took place, they not liking to 
own their alarm, yet perfectly unable to. re- 
tain their composure in his presence. 

" ' This interesting animal was w^ell fed 
twice a day, but was never given any thing 
which had life in it. He stood about two 
feet high, and was of a dark-yellow colour, 
thickly spotted with black rosettes and, from 
his good feeding and the care taken to clean 



122 THE TAMR PANTHER. 



him, his skin shone like satin. The expres- 
sion of his countenance was very amiable 
and good-tempered, and he was particularly 
gentle to children. He Avould lie down on 
the mat by their side when they slept, and 
even the infant shared his caresses and re- 
mained unhurt. During the period of his 
residence in Cape Town, I was much occu- 
pied in making arrangements for my de- 
parture from Africa, but generallj^ visited 
my future companion every day; and we be- 
came great friends before we sailed. He 
was conveyed on board the vessel in a large 
wooden cage thickly barred w4th iron, but 
even this confinement was not deemed a 
sufficient protection by the canoe-men, who 
were so alarmed at taking him from the 
shore to the vessel, that in their confusion 
they dropped cage and all into the sea. For 
a moment I gave my poor panther up for 
lost; but some sailors jumped into a boat 
belonging to the vessel and dragged him 
out in safety. The beast himself seemed to 
be completely subdued by his ducking; and, 
as no one dared to open his cage to dry it, 
he rolled himself up in one corner, nor 
roused himself till after an interval of some 



THE TAME PANTHER. 123 



daj's, when he recognised raj voice. When 
1 spoke he raised his head, held it on one 
side, then on the other, to listen, and when 
I c^me fully into view he jumped upon his 
. legs and appeared frantic. He rolled him- 
self over and over; he howded; he opened 
his enormous jaws, and cried, and seemed 
as though he would have torn his cage to 
pieces. However, as his violence subsided, 
he contented himself with thrusting his 
nose and paws through the bars to receive 
my caresses. 

" ' The greatest treat I could bestow on 
my favourite was lavender-water. Mr. 
Hutchinson had told me that on the way 
from Ashantee he drew a scented handker- 
chief from his pocket, w^hich was imme- 
diately seized by the panther and reduced 
to atoms ; nor could he venture to open a 
bottle of perfume when the animal w^as near, 
he was so eager to enjoy it. I indulged him 
twice a week by making a cup of stiff paper, 
pouring a little lavender-water into it and 
giving it to him through the bars of his cage. 
He would drag it to him with eagerness, 
roll himself over it, nor rest till the smell 
w^as evaporated. By this means I taught 



124 THE TAME PANTHER. 



him to put out his paws Avithout showing 
his nails, always refusing the lavender-water 
till he had drawn them back again, and in 
a short time he never on any occasion pro- 
truded his nails when oflering his paw/ " 

^'I wonder if cats in general are fond of 
perfumes?" said Annie. 

"They don't like cologne, I know," ob- 
served Daisy, "for I have often tried to 
make Punch smell of it; but they like cat- 
nip and — what was that stuff you took when 
you were sick, aunt, that grows in the corner 
of the garden ?" 

"Valerian," replied Miss Winston. "I 
do not admire their taste in that particular, 
I must say." 

"Lufra used to like rose-water," said Rich- 
ard; "but then he liked wine and strong 
coffee : so he was no rule. But go on about 
the panther, if you please, aunt." 

" ' We lay eight weeks in the river Ga- 
boon,' Mrs. Bowditch continues, 'where Sal 
had plenty of food, but was never suffered 
to leave his cage. His indignation was con- 
stantly excited by the pigs, which were suf- 
fered to run past his cage; and the sight of 
one of the monkeys put him in a perfect fury. 



THE TAME PANTHER. 125 



While at anchor in the river, an ourang-ou- 
tang was brought for sale, and lived three days 
on board ; and I never shall forget the uncon- 
trollable rage of the one or the agony of the 
other on their first meeting. The ourang- 
outang was about three feet high, and very 
powerful in proportion to his size, so that, 
when he fled with extraordinary^ rapidity to 
the farther end of the deck, neither men nor 
things remained upright when they opposed 
his progress : there he took refuge in a sail, 
and, though generally obedient to the voice 
of his master, force was necessary to make 
him quit the shelter of its folds. As for 
the panther, his back was in an arch, his 
tail was extended and perfectly stiff, his 
eyes flashed, and as he howled he showed 
his huge teeth. Then, as if forgetting the 
bars before him, he tried to spring on the 
ourang-outang to devour him. It was long 
before he recovered his tranquillity. Day 
and night he appeared to be on the watch ; 
and the appearance of a large monkey we 
had on board renewed his agitation. We 
at length sailed for England, with an ample 
supply of provisions ; but, unhappily, we were 
boarded by pirates during the voyage and 
11* 



126 THE TAME PANTHER. 



nearly reduced to a state of starvation. My 
panther must have perished but for a col- 
lection of more than three hundred parrots 
with which we sailed from the river, and 
which died very fast while we were in the 
northwest trades. Lai's allowance was one 
a day; but this was so scanty a pittance that 
he grew ravenous, and had not the patience 
to pick off the feathers before he commenced 
his meal. The consequence was that he 
became very ill and refused even this small 
allowance of food. Those around me tried 
to persuade me that he suffered from the 
colder climate ; but his dry nose and paws 
convinced me that he was feverish, and I 
had him taken from the cage, when, instead 
of jumping about and enjoying his liberty, 
he lay down and rested his head on my feet, 
I then made three pills, each containing two 
grains of calomel. The boy who had the 
charge of him, and who was much attached 
to him, held his jaws open while I pushed 
the medicine down his throat. Early the 
next morning I went to visit my patient, 
and found his guard sleeping in his cage ; 
and, having administered a further dose to 
the invalid, I had the satisfaction of seeing 




The Cbetah. 



p. 127. 



THE CHETAH. 127 



him perfectly recovered in the evening. On 
the arrival of the vessel in the London 
Docks, Lai was taken ashore and presented 
to the Duchess of York, who placed him in 
Exeter Change to be taken care of till she 
herself went to Holland. He remained 
there for some weeks, and was suffered to 
roam the greater part of the day without 
any restraint. On the morning previous to 
the duchess's departure, she went to visit 
her new pet, and admired his healthy ap- 
pearance and gentle demeanour. In the 
evening, when her royal highness's coach- 
man went to take him away, he was dead 
in consequence of an inflammation of the 
lungs.' " 

^' Oh, what a pity ! How sorry she must 
have been !" 

"Yes: no doubt she was much disap- 
pointed." 

"Are not leopards sometimes used in 
hunting, like dogs?" asked Sidney. "I 
think I have seen a picture of an animal 
called a hunting leopard." 

"Yes: the chetah is called the hunting 
leopard, and is used in this way both in 
India and Africa. It is in some respects a 



128 THE CHETAH. 



very peculiar animal, having certain charac- 
teristics which seem to approach those of 
the dog. Thus, its claws are not retractile, 
— that is, they cannot be drawn back into a 
sheath as the kitten's are, — but rest upon 
the ground like those of the dog and wolf. 
Nevertheless, it is a true cat, and one of the 
handsomest and most docile of the group. 
Its fur is of a beautiful yellowish-fawn co- 
lour above, and nearly pure white beneath, 
and is variegated with numberless black 
spots, which are not arranged in rose form 
like those of the leopard and panther, but 
are scattered promiscuously over the sides 
and body. It is not so smooth and soft as 
that of the leopard and tiger, but somewhat 
crimp in its character, and there is a kind 
of mane or crest of hard, stiff', upright hairs 
along the ridge of the back. The tail is 
about as long as the body, has a white tip, 
and is surrounded near the extremity with 
several black rings. The end of the nose 
is black like a dog's ; and there is a curved 
black line extending from the mouth to the 
inner angle of the eyes. The chetah stands 
higher upon its legs than the rest of the 
family, and somewhat resembles a hound in 



THE CHETAH. 129 



its figure. Mr. Bennett, speaking of two 
that were kept in the Tower menagerie, 
saj^s, ' They are truly an elegant and grace- 
ful pair, having, when let out into the court- 
yard in their couples, very much of the air 
and manners of greyhounds. When no- 
ticed or fondled, they purr like cats ; and 
this is their usual mode of expressing plea- 
sure. If, on the other hand, they are un- 
easy, whether from cold, from a craving 
after food or from a jealous apprehension 
of being neglected, their note consists of a 
short, uniform and repeated mew. They 
are extremely fond of play, and their man- 
ner of playing resembles that of the cat. 
The chetahs speedily become fond of those 
who are kind to them, and exhibit their 
fondness in an open, frank, confiding man- 
ner. There can, in fact, be little doubt that 
they might with the greatest facility be re- 
duced to a state of perfect domestication 
and rendered fully as familiar and faithful 
as the dog himself.' " 

"I should like to have one. Wouldn't 
you, aunt?" said Sidney. 

'^ It would be a very pretty pet, certainly, 
if one could overcome a certain distrust of 



130 ' THE CIIETAH. 



all such animals," replied Miss Winston; 
"but for the matter of use in hunting I 
suspect you would find your pointer Sport 
the more serviceable animal of the two." 

''How are they used in hunting ?" asked 
Annie. 

" They are mostly employed upon the 
great open plains of Bengal and Persia, 
where there are few enclosures, and which 
abound with dijBferent species of deer and 
antelope. The chetah, which usually has 
its ej^es covered with a hood, is brought to 
the field in a flat-topped cart, drawn by 
oxen; and the sportsman who wishes to 
enjoy the hunt sits beside the driver, for 
should he come on horseback it is ten to 
one the game would become frightened and 
run off, while the sight of the cart, built like 
the ordinary ones employed by the natives, 
occasions them no alarm. When the cart 
is arrived near enough, the attendant takes 
the hood from the chetah's eyes, looses his 
slips, and with his hand points out the game 
to him. The chetah slips quietly ofl' the 
cart on the side opposite to the game, and 
advances in a slow canter, crouching close 
to the ground and taking advantage of 



THE CIIETAH. 131 



every bush and tree to conceal itself, till it 
arrives within the requisite distance, when 
with two or three great bounds it leaps 
upon its prey and brings it to the earth. 
The attendants immediately run up, and, 
while one diverts the attention of the chetah 
by offering it some of the blood, the other 
secures the game. If, however, the animal 
' misses its aim, it returns to its keeper growl- 
ing sullenly and in great ill-humour, and 
can seldom be coaxed, to undertake the 
chase again. The chetahs are sometimes 
led about the streets for sale in Indian 
cities ; and it is said that in the great days 
of the Indian emperors more than a thou- 
sand have been carried out at once in the 
train of a native prince." 

^'It must have been a pretty sight," said 
Sidney. 

" They sometimes took the field with a 
great deal of pomp, with hundreds of ele- 
phants, and thousand of follow^ers, armed 
and unarmed, whose office it was to beat 
the bushes and drive all the game in a 
large extent of country into a circle around 
the prince and his nobility, who killed what 
they pleased. But there is little of this 



132 THE SUMATRAN TIGER. 



'pomp and circumstance' remaining; for 
most of the descendants of the Indian em- 
perors are either languishing in exile or 
pensioners on the bounty of the English, 
who possess their lands and revenues." 

" Are there any others of the leopard- 
kind besides those you have mentioned?" 
asked Richard. 

''There is but one more of importance, — . 
the Rimau Dahan, or Sumatran tiger. This 
species was first discovered by Sir Stamford 
Raffles in the forests of Bencoolen, in Su- 
matra, — where he procured a young one, 
which was afterwards brought to Europe. 
It is a large animal, about four feet long 
from the nose to the root of the tail, which 
measures about three feet more. Unlike 
most of the cats, its colour is of an ashy 
gray, without any tint of red or yellow, and 
variegated by darker spots and stripes, each 
of which is surrounded and defined bj^ a 
margin of deep velvety black. The tail is 
very long and large, and the limbs stout and 
robust, — especially the feet and toes. Sir 
Stamford Raffles thus describes those which 
Were in his possession : — 

"'Both specimens, while in a state of 



THE SUMATRAN TIGER. 133 



confinement, were remarkable for playful- 
ness and docility : no domestic kitten could 
be more so. They were always courting 
intercourse with persons passing by ; and the 
expression of their countenances — which was 
open and playful — showed the greatest de- 
light when noticed, throwing themselves on 
their backs and delighting in being tickled 
and rubbed. On board ship there was a 
small Musi dog which used to play around 
the ship and with the animals; and it was 
amusing to watch the playfulness and tender- 
ness with which the latter came in contact 
with his inferior-sized conapanion. When 
fed with a fowl which had died, he seized 
the prey, and, after sucking the blood and 
tearing it a little, he amused himself for 
hours with throwing it about and jumping 
after it in the same manner that a cat plays 
with a mouse before it is quite dead. He 
never seemed to look upon men or children 
as prey, but as companions; and the natives 
assert that when wild they subsist princi- 
pally upon poultry, birds and the smaller 
kinds of deer. They are never found in 
numbers, and may be considered as rather 
a rare animal even in the southern part of 

12 



134 THE SUMATRAN TIGER. 



Sumatra. They are generally found in the 
vicinity of villages, and are never dreaded 
by the natives except as they destroy poul- 
try. The natives declare that they sleep, 
and often lie in wait for their prey, on trees ; 
and from this circumstance they derive their 
name of Dahan, — which signifies the fork of 
a tree, across which they are said to rest and 
to stretch themselves. Both species amused 
themselves in frequently jumping and cling- 
ing to the top of the cage and throwing a 
somerset, or twisting themselves around 
after the manner of a squirrel, the tail 
being extended and showing to great ad- 
vantage when thus expanded. ' Sir Stamford 
also mentions another large beast of prey 
said by the natives to be found on the island, 
and which has been hitherto undescribed. It 
is called Rimau Rumbaug, and is represented 
by the natives as larger than the tiger and 
much more dangerous and destructive. It 
is not stealthy in its approaches, like the 
tiger, but rushes furiouslj^ and steadily 
straight forward and makes its way into vil- 
lages and houses. It is stated to have 
a mane of long hair upon its head and 
neck, to have a tuft upon the end of its tail, 



SIR STAMFORD RAFFLES. 135 



to be of a more uniform and darker colour 
than the tiger, and to have a larger and 
broader head. It has been seen in various 
parts of the country; but Sir Stamford 
never succeeded in obtaining specimens. 
It may be a species of lion." 

"Who was Sir Stamford RaflBles?" asked 
Sidney. 

"He was Governor of Java and Sumatra 
while those islands were in the hands of the 
English," replied Miss Winston; "and his 
memoirs are very interesting on many ac- 
counts. He was one of the many people 
who begin life under great apparent disad- 
vantages and succeed, by perseverance and 
industry, in obtaining honourable and useful 
stations among their fellows. I will find 
his memoirs for you to-morrow, and you 
can read them for yourself" 

" One thing more, aunt," said Richard, as 
Miss Winston rose. "Is the leopard of 
which we have been talking the same as 
that mentioned in the Bible ?" 

"The same," said Miss Winston. 

"Do you know whether any are found in 
Palestine at present?" 

"I do not know. They appear to have 



136 THE LEOPARD OF THE BIBLE. 



been very formidable there at one time, to 
judge of the way in which they are men- 
tioned. I should like, Richard, to have you 
look out as many places as you can find in 
the Bible where leopards and lions are men- 
tioned ; and perhaps we may be able to 
throw light upon some of them." 



THE RAIN. 137 



CHAPTER V. 

THE PUMA AND JAGUAR. 

The next day Mr. Crediton had appointed 
for the excursion ; and by sunrise the boys 
were anxiously watching the clouds, which 
looked rather threatening. A few drops of 
rain fell about breakfast-time; and when 
they assembled at the table their -grandfather 
pronounced that it would probably be a 
rainy day. The announcement was received 
with dolefully long faces. 

"When it rains before seven it clears 
before eleven/' said Sidney. 

"Unless it keeps on," remarked Richard, 
— "which it certainly seems likely to do at 
present. Besides, if it rains this morning 
it will be too wet to go into the woods, 
even if it clears off at noon." 

"You always look on the dark side, 
Dick,'' said Annie, rather impatiently. 

12* 



138 A LITTLE PHILOSOPHY. 



" What is the use of casting such a gloom 
over every thing?" 

'' I think it is best to look at things as 
they are," replied Richard. " If it is going 
to rain, there is no use in saying that it won't, 
because it won't make a bit of diflerence. 
The clouds won't change for our plans." 

^'And it would not be very pleasant to 
get a mile or two from home and then be 
caught," said Sidney. "And you know, 
Annie, the rain always suits somebody, if it 
does not suit us." 

This was wonderfully philosophical for 
Sidney, who was rather apt to be impatient 
under any disappointment ; and, to say the 
truth, this sudden improvement was very 
much owing to his being deeply interested 
in Sir Stamford Raffles. He had just got to 
the invasion of Java, having skipped some 
of the preliminary steps ; and he could 
hardly put it down long enough to eat his 
breakfast. Annie smiled rather mischiev- 
ously and glanced at the book, one corner 
of which peeped out from under the table- 
cloth. Sidney laughed too. 

"I don't care," he said, good-naturedly: 
" it doesn't make a great deal of diflerence 



WORK IN STORE. 139 



when one has something that one wants 
very much to do. And that is why I always 
like to have several things going on at once, 
— to have two or three irons in the fire, as 
grandfather says, — because if you cannot 
work at one you can at another.'' 

^'I agree with you, Sidney," said Mr. 
Winston. "It is a good principle, if it be 
not carried too far." 

" I am sure I have things enough to do, 
and that I want to do, too," remarked 
Annie. " There are all the books in our 
bookcase need to be taken down and dusted 
and arranged. I have been wanting to set 
about it for several days ; but there has not 
seemed to be any time, exactly. Then I 
have my collar to finish ; and all the shells 
want dusting ; and " 

"And, Annie," interrupted Daisy, "you 
know you promised, a long time ago, to 
make the waist to my doll's blue dress. 
Her skirt is done, and her pink ones are all 
wearing out, and the white ones are dirty." 

" I think you make yourselves out to be 
pretty well provided with work," said Miss 
"Winston. "Which of your irons will you 
begin upon, Annie ?" 



140 WORK IN STORE. 



Annie hesitated. She would very much 
have preferred dusting the books, — an em- 
ployment of which she was very fond ; but 
she prided herself upon keeping her 
word, and she knew that she had promised. 
Besides, she was really very fond of Daisy 
and loved to give her pleasure. 

^^I believe I shall finish the dolFs frock," 
she said, finally. '^ She seems, by Daisy's 
account, to be badly ofi* for clothes.'' 

Daisy looked very much pleased. 

"And what will you do, Dick?" she 
asked. 

"I am going to do some whittling," said 
Richard ; " and if aunt will let me bring my 
chips into the house we will sit together, 
and Sidnej^ can read to us out of his new 
book." 

" To-be-sure," assented Sidney. " I think 
it is a great deal better to read aloud than 
to read to one's self." 

''So don't I," said Annie. "But I am 
glad you do. Perhaps it may not rain, after 
all, — though it certainly looks very much 
like it." 

" There are two signs of fine weather," 
said Richard, going to the window. " The 



SIGNS OF RAIN. 141 



swallows fly high, and the smoke goes 
straight up." 

"Neither of them can be always de- 
pended upon./' remarked Mr, Winston. >'I 
have seen swallows flying almost out of 
sight in a thunder-storm ; and I have seen 
the smoke going straight up not five 
minutes before a rain which lasted all day. 
Still, generally speaking, it may be said 
that swallows fly low, and, as it were, skim 
the ground, before rain." 

" Why do they do so ?" asked Daisy. 

" I suppose, the upper regions of the air 
becoming colder, the insects are driven to 
seek the surface of the earth and the swal- 
lows come down after them. You know 
when they are flying in circles they are 
seeking their prey." 

"And how about the smoke going up?" 
asked Sidney. 

" The air being lighter before rain and in 
damp weather, the smoke cannot float in it, 
and falls to the ground ; while in fine, dry 
weather the air is heavier than the smoke, 
and sustains it as the cofiee in this cup sus- 
tains this piece of toast. If I should put 
the toast into ether, — which is a very light 



142 SIGNS OF RAIN. 



liquid, — it would drop at once to the 
ground." 

''I thought weather-signs were all non- 
sense," said Annie. 

"By no means," replied her grandfather. 
" Many of them are very reliable ; and 
those who are used to an out-of-door life 
may guide their motions tolerably well by 
watching the motions of animals and 
plants." 

''I have noticed one thing myself with 
respect to the chickens, especially in sum- 
mer," observed Miss Winston. "If at the 
commencement of a shower you see them 
huddling under cover, the shower is apt to 
be a short one ; but if they come out and 
go picking about, with their featherswet,the 
rain generally lasts for several hours at least. 
I have always heard that when pigs are seen 
running about and squealing, carrying 
straws in their mouths, it is ordinarily a 
forerunner of a long storm." 

" How can animals know any thing about 
such things ?" asked Annie, rather incredu- 
lously. 

"How they can, my dear, I cannot pre- 
tend to say ; but no one can be in the habit 



SIGNS OF RAIN, 148 



of observing them closely without coming to 
the conclusion that they perceive- many 
things which are out of the reach of our 
senses. A very common instance is the 
power dogs possess of tracking animals by 
the sense of smell; and it is a well-known 
fact that they and other domestic animals 
show the greatest uneasiness before the 
coming of earthquakes. Thus, their senses 
being so much finer in some respects than 
our's, we can easil}^ believe that they may be 
affected by variations in the state of the 
atmosphere which are so slight as to make 
no impression upon us." 

'' Please to tell us some signs of rain, 
grandfather," said Sidney. 

"What are called false suns, or sundogs, 
are almost certain signs of rain," replied 
Mr. "Winston. " I never knew them to fail, 
even in the dryest time. The apparent 
nearness of distant objects is another, but 
not so reliable a prognostic. When you see 
the leaves of the trees turn over, so as to ex- 
pose their under sides, which have a grayish 
appearance, you may usually look for a 
shower; and this is especially the case with 
the silver poplar. Some flowers, like tulips 



144 SIGNS. * 

and the white bloodroot, close before rain. 
A limb which has been broken or badly 
sprained almost always aches before a 
change of w^eather."* 

^'Does your's, Aunt Louisa?" asked 
Richard. 

"N'o, my dear; and that is one reason 
why I think we shall have a fine day after 
all. But it is full six hours before you will 
want to set out, and there will be time for 
many changes before two o'clock; and, 
that we may not have to weary ourselves 
in watching them, I move we all set about 
our several parts and duties, — Annie to her 
music, Daisy to her geography, and Dick 
and Sidney to recite their lessons, if they 
have them." 

''I have mine," said Sidney. ''I learned 
it before six this morning; and I know Dick 
has his, for he learned it last night." 

Lessons were learned and recited, prac- 
tice faithfully gone through, — even to the 
detestable scales and horrible exercises, as 
Annie called them, — and still the weather 



■^ The reliability of some of these " signs" is not beyond 
c^uestion. 



CLEAR SKY. 145 



looked very doubtful. Annie set resolutely 
about making the doll's dress, and de- 
voted all her energies to furnishing a nice 
fit, as the dressmakers say; Eichard's car- 
penter-work began, under Daisy's delighted 
eyes, to assume the appearance of a charm- 
ing little table, just right for the dining- 
room of the doll's house; and Sidney, in the 
midst of Sir Stamford Raffles, had just 
come across the description of the Rafflesi 
Arnoldi, the gigantic flower of Sumatra, 
growing upon the stem of another tree, 
measuring more than a yard across and 
weighing fifteen pounds, — when a beam of 
bright sunshine glanced into the room. 
Sidney closed his book and went to the 
window. It was really clearing off. The 
clouds were breaking away in all direc- 
tions and rolling themselves into those 
round white masses sometimes known as 
cotton-balls, showing a bright-blue sky 
beyond them. It was already clear in the 
direction of the wind ; and there now 
seemed every promise of a beautiful day. 

The promise was fulfilled. Aunt Lonisa 
had the little basket all ready, and at two 
o'clock the carriage landed them safely at 



14G rUNCTUALTTY. 



Mr. Crediton's, where boys and girls to the 
number of twelve were already assembled. 
Daisy concluded that she would rather ride 
with Aunt Louisa; and, indeed, the walk 
they proposed taking was rather too long 
for her, as she was much the youngest of 
the party and not very strong vvithal. 

Half-past two was the hour appointed 
for starting; and Mr. Crediton never waited 
for anj'body. Always punctual to a mo- 
ment himself, he expected every one else 
to be the same; and he had trained the 
children so well in this respect that one of 
them very seldom came late to church, to 
Sunday-school, or to walk. On this occasion 
they were all ready, and set out in proces- 
sion, Mr. Crediton leading the way and 
Richard and David Barton bringing up the 
rear. David was one of the village boys : 
he was about as old as Richard, and his 
very particular friend. He was a grave, 
earnest boy, and, though he was only fifteen, 
w^as already a communicant and a Sunday- 
school teacher. Annie and Kate were the 
oldest girls of the party. They had been ac- 
customed to walk together always and to be 
entirely devoted to each other; but this day 



THE EXCURSION. 147 



Mr. Creclitoii had given them a hint before 
starthig which rather annoyed Annie : — 

'^ Enjoy each other's society as much as 
you can, girls ; but don't be exclusive and 
make the others feel as if you did not want 
them. Remember that you are the oldest, 
and it is fully incumbent on you to enter- 
tain the rest." 

Kate received this advice with her usual 
sweetness, and acted upon it at once ; but 
Annie felt a good deal displeased, and at 
first seemed as if she had made up her 
mind not to enjoy any thing. But she 
w^as soon shamed out of this mood by 
seeing how agreeable Kate was making 
herself, and began to try to do her part, 
-T-rather stiffly at first, it must be confessed, 
and feeling as though it was rather unkind 
in Kate to enjoy herself so much in any 
society but her's. 

The proposed route to-day w^as new to 
all the children except David Barton, who 
had proposed it to Mr. Crediton. After 
leaving the village, they struck across two 
or three fields, crossed the little river upon 
stepping-stones, — w^ith a deal of fun and 
merriment on the part of the boys and 



148 THE EXCURSION. 



sonic timidity upon that of the girls; and 
then, entering a piece of woods,- they fol- 
loAvcd a narrow path till they came to the 
mouth of a ravine or cleft, from which, 
issued a pretty little brawling brook, which 
gurgled among the roots and stones 
and skipped over all sorts of small obstacles 
as though in a hurry to get out into broad 
daylight and end its course in the river. 
The sides of the ravine were very steep and 
rocky, and covered with beautiful ferns, 
mosses and all sorts of damp-loving, shade- 
loving plants. The bed of the stream was 
filled with stones of all sizes, which seemed 
to have fallen from the rocks abo\^e; and 
among these the brook wound, singing 
and fretting, with a murmuring sound 
beautiful to hear. The children uttered 
many exclamations of delight as they 
entered the gorge and began picking their 
way under the banks, which seemed to 
grow higher and to approach nearer as 
they proceeded. Annie began to look a 
little apprehensive. 

" Are j^ou sure we shall not lose our way ?" 
she said to Richard and David, who had 
lingered a little behind the others. 



THE PINES. 149 



"I don't know how we should," replied 
Richard, laughing, ''unless we climb these 
rocks ; and I don't think that would be an 
easy matter. The only thing we can do is 
to go on as far as w^e want to, and then turn 
and come back the same way. There 
seems to be no getting out." 

" There is another way out," said David ; 
"but I rather think it would be too long 
and too scrambly for the girls. But you 
need not be afraid, Annie: I have been 
all through here twice; and so has Mr. 
Crediton. Isn't it beautiful ?" he con- 
tinued, looking up to where the blue sky 
could just be seen though the jDines 
and slender whispering birches. ''How I 
do love to hear the pines whisper ! It 
seems as if one could understand what 
they said, if there were only a little wind." 

" They always make me feel sad," said 
Annie. " They remind me of all the sor- 
rowful things I have ever known in my 
life." 

" Nothing that is really and truly beauti- 
ful ever makes me feel sad," said David. 
" That is, out of doors, I mean ; for things in 
books very often do. I am always happy 

13^- 



150 THE V/ATERFALL. 



ill the ^^•oods and fields. I should love to live 
out of doors." 

"What are you sentimentalizing about 
there, Barton ?" shouted Sidney, who had 
climbed up on a projecting rock to see the 
general efiect, as he said. 

"I am not sentimentalizing," returned 
David, rather indignantly. 

" Wei], hurry up, then. Mr. Crediton says 
we are almost at the end of our journey." 

So it proved ; for, on turning round the 
edge of a point of rock projecting from 
the bank, they found the party assembled 
in front of a beautiful little waterfall. It 
was about twelve feet high; and the water 
dashed down three or four rocky steps 
with a pleasant sound, subsiding at the 
bottom into a deep, still pool two or three 
yards across, beautifully transparent, and 
having a bottom of white gravel. The 
rocks around were green with the richest 
and smoothest mosses the children had ever 
seen. Above, the ravine still continued, 
narrower and more savage than before, and 
seeming almost choked with trees and fallen 
stones, — though David said there was still 
a path which came out finally about four 



THE DINNEH-PARTY. 161 



miles from the village. The children were 
anxious to explore it; but Mr. Crediton 
refused. "You must remember that we 
have to go home as well as to come out," 
he said ; " and I venture to predict that you 
will all be tired enough by bedtime if we 
return the shortest way." 

There was nothing to be said; for Mr. 
Crediton's decisions were like the laws of the 
Medes and Persians. So the idea was given 
up, and the whole party set themselves to 
work to find amusement, of which there was 
no lack. One of the little girls produced a 
couple of dolls, and, with two or three of her 
companions, constructed a neat little play- 
house in a niche of the bank, with carpet 
and sofas of the richest moss, a table of 
birch-bark, a dinner-service of the most 
sumptuous acorn-cups, and a soup-tureen of 
solid walnut-shell; and here they had a 
grand dinner-party.. The boys waded into 
the stream, and climbed up on the rocks, 
and made the woods ring with their noise 
and loud laughter ; while Mr. Crediton, sur- 
rounded by the elders of the party, busied 
himself in examining mosses under a mag- 
nifying-glass. At last Sidney reminded him 



152 THE PANTHER. 



that he had promised to give them a lecture 
on panthers. The suggestion was received 
with general applause ; and, the party being 
comfortably seated, out of reach of the spray, 
Mr. Crediton began : — 

" The animal which is to form the subject 
of my lecture, young ladies and gentlemen, 
has a very wide range over the American 
continent, being found almost everywhere, 

from Patagonia Where is Patagonia, 

Lizzy Barton?" 

" Patagonia is the southernmost country 
of South America," replied little Lizzy, con- 
fidently. ''It was in my lesson yesterday." 

" Very good. — From Patagonia on the 
south, to the great lakes on the north, and 
from the Atlantic to the Pacific. It has, 
however, become verj^ rare in the Northern 
States ; and it is now about ten years since I 
have heard of any in this part of the country. 
It is known here incorrectly as the panther, 
and is sometimes called catamount and 
cougar. In South America it is called the 
puma, and sometimes the lion of America, — 
to distinguish it from the jaguar, which is 
called the American tiger. Wlien it first be- 
came known to the settlers of North America, 




The Panther. 



p. 152. 



THE PANTHER. 153 



it was generally held to be a true lion, and 
is mentioned under that name by the early 
historians and travellers, who considefed it 
a formidable animal. It is described by Law- 
son as ^ about the height of a large grey- 
hound, of a reddish colour, the same as a 
lion. It is very active, climbs trees with 
the greatest agility imaginable, and is very 
strong-limbed. His tail is exceedingly long, 
his eyes fierce and lively, large and of a 
grayish colour. His prey is swine's flesh, 
deer's flesh, or any thing else he can take. 

" '1^0 animal is so nice and cleanly in his 
eating. When he has caught his prey, he 
fills himself with the slaughter, and carefully 
lays by the remainder, covering it very neatly 
with leaves, which if any thing touches he 
never eats any more of it. It purrs as cats 
do, and even if taken young is never to be 
reclaimed from its wild nature. He halloos 
like a man in the woods when killed, — which 
is by making him betake himself to a tree, as 
the least cur will presently do. There the 
hunters shoot him. If not killed outright, he 
is a dangerous enemj^, especially to the dogs 
who approach him. His flesh looks as well 
as any shambles-meat about town. A great 



154 THE PANTHER. 



many people eat him as choice food ; but 
I never tasted of a panther/ concludes 
good* Mr. Lawson, — ^ so cannot commend 
the meat by mine own experience.' 

" The account of this quaint old historian 
is confirmed by other and later writers in 
most particulars. Mr. Darwin, in his enter- 
taining and instructive ' Voyage of a Natu- 
ralist/ gives the same account of the puma's 
neat habit of eating. He says that it 
covers the body of its prey with many 
large branches, and then lies down to 
watch. This habit is often the cause of his 
being discovered ; for the condors, wheeling 
in the air, every now and then descend to 
partake of the feast, and, being angrily 
driven away, rise all together on the wing. 
It seems the puma has sense enough to 
learn by experience ; for the herdsmen say 
that if he has been once betrayed in this 
w^ay he never repeats the practice, but, 
having made one hearty meal on the carcass, 
he wanders far away and never returns to it." 

''Then it seems he has more sense than 
some people," said Annie. 

" You will find, before we finish with him, 
that we may learn several things of him. 



THE PANTIIEFt. 155 



South America seems to be quite a paradise 
for pumas, according to Dr. Darwin ; and 
they abound in many parts to such a 
degree that hundreds are killed in a year. 
The great herds of peccaries and capybaras 
in the uninhabited parts, and the young 
lamas and cattle upon the pampas, furnish 
him with such an abundance of food that 
he is not much dreaded by the natives,— 
though this does not prevent him from kill- 
ing a man now and then. His usual mode 
of killing his prey is by springing upon its 
shoulders and then with one twist of his 
powerful paws turning the head round till 
the neck breaks. The flesh is there con- 
sidered excellent eating and is said to taste 
exactly like veal." 

"I think I should take it on trust," said 
Kate. "I should not care to eat panther." 

"^All prejudice, my dear," replied her 
father. '' Remember how long you held 
out about the eels ; and yet you liked them 
very well, after all. But it is a little singu- 
lar, considering the entirely flesh diet of th 
puma, that it should be good eating. The 
flesh of carnivorous animals is usually ex- 
tremely rank, and even unwholesome." 



156 THE PANTHER. 



"Bears' meat is good," said Charles 
Dean ; " but bears do not eat much flesh." 

" Not if they can get any thing they like 
better, such as corn or fruits." 

"But is it true, sir, that the panther, or 
puma, is so wild?" asked Sidney. "I think 
I have heard of their being tamed ; and 
those we saw in the menagerie were very 
gentle, — 'as gentle as kittens,' the keeper 
said; and they looked so." 

"JSTo, it is not true. They have often 
been rendered very tame by kind and 
gentle treatment. Kean, the actor, had one 
which followed him about like a dog and 
delighted in being noticed and petted by 
visitors. Sir William Jardine, editor of the 
'l^aturalist's Library,' speaks of one which 
lived in an unoccupied room of the old Col- 
lege of Edinburgh, where it amused itself 
leaping and clinging about the joists and 
timbers, and by jumping in and out of a 
large tub of clean water, appearing to take 
great delight in his bath. His favourite 
amusement was playing with the feet of 
those who came to visit him, — ' entirely 
after the manner of a kitten.' " 

"I should rather be excused," said Rich- 



THE PANTHER. 167 



ard. '' Even the kitten makes her claws go 
through to my skin sometimes ; and I can 
fancy that the claws of a panther might be 
still more objectionable, — especially if they 
have the same habit of sharpening their 
nails. Sid, do you remember old Punch 
sharpening his claws on Mr. Bushnell's 
leg?" 

Sidney laughed. 

" I believe the habit is common to many 
of the cat tribe besides the panther,'' said 
Mr. Crediton. '' The natives of South Ame- 
rica discover the neighbourhood of the 
puma and jaguar by examining certain 
trees to which the animals constantly re- 
sort; and Dr. Darwin saw the hard soil of 
Patagonia deeply scored with the scratches 
of the pumas. I believe they do it not so 
much to sharpen their claws as to tear off 
the ragged edges and points." 

''What sort of places do panthers usually 
live in?" asked one of the girls. "I can 
fancy this hollow being a very good place 
for them." 

''And your fancy would be correct. They 
have a great fondness for rocky ravines 
and almost inaccessible ledges, where they 

14 



158 THE PANTHEll. 



can rear their young unmolested. They are 
very fond of then' little ones, and will en- 
counter any danger in their defence. I 
read, not long ago, a story of a gentleman 
who w^as riding through the woods in Ar- 
kansas, when his attention was attracted by 
some lamentable outcries; and, looking nar- 
rowly about, he perceived near the roadside 
what appeared to be a half-grown kitten, 
but in a very starved and miserable condi- 
tion. Being, I suppose, a humane man, he 
dismounted, and squeezed the creature into 
the deep pocket of his great-coat, intend- 
ing to leave it at a house a few miles farther 
on, where he w^as to stop for the night. 
The little thing made a horrible noise, to 
which he paid little attention, till he heard 
its outcries answered by a scream from be- 
hind, when, looking round, he beheld a 
large panther in full chase ; and then, for 
the first time, he perceived the state of the 
case. The animal he had humanely picked 
up was a young panther, and the mother 
w^as bent upon rescuing her child." 

''What did he do?" asked Annie and 
Kate together. 

"He tried to disengage his prot^g^ from 



THE PANTHER. 159 



his pockets, in order to throw it to its mo- 
ther ; but the httle wretch stuck to the lining 
with teeth and claws so tightly that he could 
not get it out, while every tug produced a 
fresh squall, which irritated the mother to 
frenzy. He could not get off his coat with- 
out a dangerous delay: so the only thing to 
be done was to put spurs to his horse and 
endeavour to escape by flight. The pan- 
ther gained upon him, however; and, had 
his journey been prolonged, the issue would 
have been more than doubtful. But, just 
as his horse was beginning to flag, he came 
to the edge of the woods and within sight 
of the house where he expected to lodge. 
Three or four large dogs rushed out, bark- 
ing at the noise they made; and the poor 
mother, seeing the case was hopeless, turned 
and sullenly retreated to the woods." 

^'Poor thing!" said two or three of the 
girls. 

^' I wonder what he did with the young 
panther?" added Sidney. '^ I should think 
he would have been careful how he picked 
up any more kittens." 

" The story goes on to say that he carried 
the animal home and reared it. But, as I 



160 THE PANTHER. 



only read it in a newspaper, I cannot vouch 
for its truth." 

^'It is a good story, at any rate," said 
David Barton. "Do panthers ever attack 
men unless they are provoked?" 

"I believe not very often, unless they 
are wounded. The accounts given of their 
courage by different writers vary very much, 
some saying that they are cowardly and 
alwaj^s fly from the face of man, and others 
representing them as very dangerous under 
all circumstances. I suppose they may be 
different at different times. For myself, I 
may say, frankly, that I would rather keep 
out of their way. The cry is quite enough 
for me." 

"What is it like?" asked Kate. "Can- 
not you give us an imitation of it, father, 
as you did of the Indian war-whoop one 
day?" 

"Something like this, then," said Mr. 
Crediton ; and, after a moment's pause, he 
raised a cry which startled the whole party 
and made the little girls look actually pale, 
especially when it came back clearly but 
faintly repeated from the deep forest be- 
yond. 



THE SPRING. 161 



"Hark!'' said Sidney. "The spirits of 
the woods are answering you !" 

"See if you can do it, Sidney/' said 
Annie. " It is so curious to hear the echo 
come back." 

Sidney succeeded in producing a tolera- 
bly-correct imitation ; and in a few seconds 
it came back clearly re-echoed again and 
again. 

"But come," said Mr. Crediton, after the 
boys had all tried their voices and their 
skill ; " it is time to eat our supper. David, 
will you and Sidney and Richard go to the 
spring for a pail of water, while the young 
ladies set the table ?" 

" "Why cannot we drink the brook-water ?" 
asked Annie. 

" The brook comes from the swamps 
above; and, besides, it is not so cold as 
that of the spring," replied Mr. Crediton. 
" Come, hurry, boys ! We will have supper 
ready by the time you come back." 

The three boys accordingly set oft* for 
the spring, which was not many rods dis- 
tant. It bubbled out very temptingly from 
under the roots of a large pine; but, just as 
he was about to dip the pail, Sidney thought 

14* 



162 THE SPRING. 



he saw something suspicious at the bottom, 
and, looking more closely, perceived it to be 
a large dead toad. The boys looked rather 
blankly at each other. 

" We shall have to drink the brook- water 
after all," said Sidney, "unless we under- 
take to clean out the spring; and that will 
take too long.'' 

"I know where there is a much better 
spring than this, farther up the hollow,'' 
said David ; " and if one of you will go back 
and tell them where we have gone, I will 
go and find it." 

" I will," said Richard, " as I want to find 
some snail-shells for Daisy. Don't be long, 
or we shall eat up all the supper." 

Ten minutes of what proved to be rather 
hard walking brought David and Sidney 
to the other spring, w^hich gushed out 
bright and sparkling into quite a large 
stream from under the rocks and ran down 
the bank. The ravine was here much nar- 
rower, the sides more precipitous, and the 
tall hemlocks and pines nearly met over- 
head. 

" What a savage-looking place !" remarked 
Sidney, as he looked around. "I think this 



A STRANGE SOUND. 163 



must be the abode of the goblin panther 
which answered Mr. Crediton. I wonder if 
he will be civil enough to give us a wel- 
come ?" And, as he finished speaking, he 
raised the panther-cry. 

This time it came back at once, and with 
startling distinctness. It did not sound like 
an echo. There was a different expression 
about it altogether. The boys looked at 
each other. 

^'That's curious, though!" said David; 
and even as he spoke the cry was again re- 
peated, two or three times together. 

"That isn't an echo, anyway," Sidney 
said, in a low tone. ''May-be it is an owl." 

David shook his head. "I know all the 
owls that are found hereabouts," he replied; 
''and I never heard any thing like that 
before." He began to look about a little, 
and after a moment called Sidney. 

"See this tree," he said, quietly, "how 
the bark is all scratched off. I say, Sidney, 
we had better get away from here." He 
took up his pail as he spoke, and they 
turned to go, but paused a moment to 
listen. Again they heard the cry : this 
time it seemed a little nearer. They 



164 A STRANGE SOUND. 



quickened their steps and soon rejoined 
their companions. Just a moment before 
they came in sight of the noisy party, Sid- 
ney paused : — 

'' Dave, we won't tell them what we have 
heard. It will scare the girls and make a 
fuss, if they believe it ; and if they don't 
they will only laugh. We will tell Mr. 
Crediton if we get a chance." 

David agreed. There was a general in- 
quiry as to what had kept them so long. 

" We found it farther than we expected," 
said David, quietly. 

Mr. Crediton 's quick eye saw that there 
was something amiss and that the boys 
wished to speak to him ; and he contrived, 
while the girls w^ere putting the finishing- 
touches to their arrangements, to draw them 
a little on one side. David gave an account 
of what they had heard, adding, " Sidney 
thought we had better not tell the others." 

" Quite right; quite right," said Mr. Credi- 
ton. '' Are you sure it was not an owl or 
some other bird?" 

"Quite sure," replied David. ''You 
know I have been in the woods a great 
deal; and I never heard any thing like it." 



THE SUPPER. 165 



"I have not known of a panther in this 
neighbourhood in ten years," said Mr. Credi- 
ton. " Still, the thing is possible. The 
swamps which commence a few miles above 
here extend many miles in an almost un- 
broken wilderness ; and the creature msij 
have travelled down. We will have supper, 
— to which the girls are calling us, — and 
then go directly home. There is no danger 
for so large a party, even supposing it was a 
panther which you heard." 

The table was now temptingly set out 
on a mossy rock, with bread and butter, 
cakes, dried beef and cold fowl, which the 
children had brought in their baskets. The 
boys took off their hats, the girls folded 
their hands, Mr. Crediton said grace, and 
they all sat down as best they might. The 
supper was discussed with excellent appe- 
tites, amid much laughter and merriment : 
only Sidney and David did not seem exactly 
in their usual spirits, and as they watched 
Mr. Crediton they perceived that he looked 
somewhat anxious in the midst of his jokes, 
that he seemed as if he were listening, and 
that he rather hurried the children, saying 
that it was late and they must be at 



166 THE RETURN. 



home before sunset. As soon as tea was 
over they took up the line of march, for 
home, Mr. Crecliton sending the oldest 
boys in front' and himself bringing up the 
rear. He did not exactly believe that the 
suspicions of the boys were correct : still, he 
could not help acknowledging to himself 
that they were not impossible ; and he drew a 
long sigh of relief when at last they emerged 
from the woods, now growing dark and 
gloomy, as the sun went down, and found 
themselves in the open meadows. Home 
was soon reached. The children bade good- 
night to the minister and to each other, 
and most of them were soon asleep. Sid- 
ney privately mentioned his adventure to 
his grandfather when he got home. Mr. 
"Winston was rather inclined to laugh at the 
idea, but allowed that it was possible, and 
praised the boy's discretion and firmness; 
and Sidney went to bed quite happy and 
too tired even to dream. If he could have 
cast a glance into tlie recess w^here they 
had taken their supper, he might have seen 
a large and graceful animal, about as tall 
as his pointer, but not so heavy, come cau- 
tiously down the rocks, often pausing to 



COxM PA NY-DAY. 167 



look about her, and, after taking a drink at 
the brook, begin a hungry search after the 
pieces of dried beef and halves of biscuits, 
—the remainder of the provisions which 
the children had emptied out of their bas- 
kets that they might have more room for 
their stones and mosses, little dreaming 
that they were leaving them for the pan- 
ther's feast. 

The next day was what the children 
called a company-day. A carriageful of 
people arrived in the mornix:ig, and two or 
three gentlemen came to dinner: so that 
Aunt Louisa had her hands full, as well as 
Annie, who was learning to be quite an effi- 
cient help upon such occasions. The boys 
slipped away after dinner and went up to 
see Jack Short, carrying with them some of 
the dessert-dainties which they thought he 
might fancy. Sidney had not said a word 
to Richard pf his adventure at the spring : 
he was nervously afraid of being laughed 
at as being deceived by his own excited 
imagination; and, after all, it hardly seemed 
possible that any wild beast could have ven- 
tured so near the village. They found Jack 
much better. He was now^ able to sit up in 



li)S JACK AGAIN. 



bed and use his hands; and as they entered 
he was busily employed in whittling. His 
pale, thin face flushed with pleasure at the 
sight of his visitors. 

''I didn't know as you were coming 
again," he said, as he resumed his occupa- 
tion. 

''We should have come yesterday," said 
Richard, ''but we were out in the woods all 
the afternoon. But what made you think 
we would not come again ?" 

"Oh, I don't know. I always thought 
you felt above me because I was only the 
son of your grandfather's tenant." 

"That's nonsense. Jack," said Sidney, 
shortly. "We never felt above you for any 
such reason ; and, to speak plainly '* 

" Go ahead," said Jack, as Sidney paused. 

" The reason we did not associate with 
you more was because we did not like your 
ways nor the company you kept. That is 
plain talking, I know ; but it is the truth, 
and I always think truth is the best." 

"So do I," said Jack, blushing a little; 
" and I don't blame you a bit. But that 
did not hinder you coming to see me when 
I was sick." 



JACK SHOUT. 169 



" And it won't hinder our doing any 
thing else we can for you," returned Eich- 
ard. ^'But I don't believe you will care so 
much for such things when you get well 
again: at least, I hope not." 

''So do I," said Jack. ''I feel as if I 
had had a kind of warning, some way. I 
hope I shall be able to go to school next 
wdnter," he continued, after a little pause. 
''Father says I may and welcome; but I 
am so much behind the other boys I should 
feel kind of ashamed." 

"You might go on learning while you 
are laid up," remarked Sidney. 

"I can't study, nor do much anyway," 
said Jack, sighing. "My head gets to 
aching very soon. But I can read a little, 
and perhaps I may study as I get better. 
I would try, anyway, if I had anybody to 
help me." 

"I will help you," said Richard; "that is, 
if grandfather is willing ; and I am sure he 
won't object. And we will lend you any 
of our books." 

" You are very kind, I am sure," replied 
the sick boy, in rather an embarrassed man- 

15 



170 jack's gratitude. 



ner. ''I don't know how I shall ever pay 

yon." 

"We don't want to be j)aid," said Sidney, 
smiling. ^'We don't do such things for 
pay." 

''But w^hen a fellow does you a good 
turn you like to do him a good turn back 
again, don't you?" argued Jack. "It don't 
make you feel anj^ less obliged to him, but 
it kind of takes a load off: don't it?' 

" To-be-sure," agreed Sidney: ''anybody 
does. But what are you carving those 
pretty little crosses for? They would be 
nice for silk-winders." 

"That's just what I intended them for. 
I thought perhaps your aunt would like 
them to put in her work-basket. They 
a'n't much, to-be-sure; but " 

"I am certain she will be very much 
pleased," said Richard. " She was wishing 
for some yesterday, and I meant to make 
them for her; but you are much handier 
with the knife than I am." 

The winders were indeed very pretty, 
being made some of them of cedar and 
others of black walnut, carefully polished 



THE PANTHER. 171 



and nicely proportioned. Jack looked very 
mnch gratified. 

"I'll make her something better than 
these when I am able to get about again, 
— if I ever do," said he. "I love to tinker 
at such things. Oh, by-the-way, I forgot 
to tell you something. Mr. Wilbur was up 
here this morning, and told father that one 
of his hogs was killed and almost eaten up 
in the woods near Dean's Hollow last night ; 
and, from the tracks they found, he is pretty 
certain it was a panther that did the mis- 
chief. Just think ! — a panther within a 
mile of the village !" 

''I knew it was!" exclaimed Sidney, 
much to the surprise of his companions. 
" I was sure of it ; and so was Dave Bar- 
ton." 

'^ Sure of what? What do you mean?" 
asked Richard, wonderingly. 

" Sure it was a panther that we heard 
at the upper spring after you left us last 
night." And Sidnej^ again described the 
incidents, adding, " I believe Mr. Crediton 
thought so too, though he didn't say so." 

"I thought it was queer your being so 
quiet and his hurrjdng us so," said Rich- 



172 THE PANTHER. 



arcl. ^'I am glad you did not say any 
thing about it. How scared the girls would 
have been!" 

'^ May-be not. All girls a'n't so easily 
scared as you'd think for," remarked Jack. 
" ISTo shame to them, either, if they had been ; 
for a panther in the woods is no joke. I de- 
clare, Sidney, it makes me shudder to think 
how near you might have been to him. 
As likely as not he was right over your 
heads, for they are wonderful creatures to 
hide. Erastus Waterman says they have 
a way of lying down flat and clinging to a 
limb, so that you might look right at one 
and never see him." 

''He was not very far off*, I know," said 
Sidney. ^'I can tell you, I felt a little 
queer when we went back : I thought 
he might be after us. So it really was a 
panther ! Did they catch him ?" 

'' No, nor won't in a hurry. They tracked 
him up the hollow, past the fields, and into 
the swamp, — which is snug quarters enough 
for him. I shouldn't wonder if there was 
a pair of them ; for they almost always go 
in couples. To think of those little girls 
playing about, and such a creature perhaps 



WORTn OF A BOOK. 173 



watching them all the time ! I almost 
wish I hadn't told you." 

"I don't/' said Sidney. ^'I am glad of 
it." 

" Because you like to know that you were 
right," remarked Jack. 

"Partly, and because I like to know 
every thing just as it is. But come, Dick; 
we shall not be home to tea if we don't 
hurry," 

"I say, boys, will you bring me some 
books ?" asked Jack. " I should be so glad ; 
and you don't know how dull it is lying 
here from morning till night." 

" We will, to-be-sure," replied Richard, 
— " as many as you want. I remember when 
my leg was broken I thought I never knew 
the use of a book before." 

After a little more conversation, the boys 
took their leave, promising to call again 
soon, and carrying the silk-winders with 
them. They found Annie waiting for them 
at the gate, evidently full of impatience to 
tell them something, 

" Only think, boys !" she began, almost be- 
fore they got within hearing: "a panther 
has been tracked into that very hollow where 

15* 



174 THE PANTHER. 



we were last Dight. He killed one of Mr. 
Wilbur's pigs. Only think of our mimick- 
ing them and laughing about them with 
one so near, and the boys going ofi* by 
themselves, too!" 

" They were a good deal nearer than we 
w^ere, it seems," said Richard. "They 
heard it scream two or three times while 
they were gone after water, and found a 
place where it had scratched a tree. They 
told Mr. Crediton ; and that was the reason 
he was in such a hurry to get ,us out of the 
woods." 

"But why didn't you tell the rest of 
us?" asked Annie, rather displeased for 
a moment. "I think we ought to have 
known." 

"What was the use?" asked Sidney. "It 
would only have frightened the little ones 
and made it so much the more troublesome 
to take care of them. It would not have 
made any difference in the danger, — if danger 
there was ; and they might just as well 
enjoj^ their walk." 

"To-be-sure," assented Annie, after a 
little reflection: " it was the very best way; 
but I don't believe I should have done it. 



THE PANTHER. 175 



But honestly, now, Sidney, don't you feel 
glad it was a real panther?" 

'^ Well, now that there is no danger from 
him, I must say I do," said Sidney, laugh- 
ing ; ^'but I thought so all the time. Have 
the people gone, Annie?" 

''Yes, half an hour ago, and I have been 
wondering where you were. Aunt is going 
to tell us about jaguars after tea." 

There was no lack of conversation at the 
tea-table. The panther was of course the 
all-absorbing topic ; but Jack's silk-winders 
were produced and very much admired. 
Even Annie, whose prejudices against poor 
Jack were in no wise abated, pronounced 
them very pretty and that it showed a proper 
feeling in him to make them. She demurred 
a little, however, to their lending him their 
books, and still more at the idea of Rich- 
ard's helping him in his studies, and ap- 
pealed to her grandfather as to whether it 
would be proper. 

" Yery proper, my dear, if Jack only con- 
tinues in the same mind after he gets well 
enough to study. I am not afraid of Rich- 
ard's being hurt by teaching the poor boy 



176 LECTURE CALLED FOR. 



vulgar fractions, — supposing him to have 
advanced so far in his education/' 

"You would not let Dick play with him 
last summer," persisted Annie. 

" Richard was younger then, and the cir- 
cumstances are not the same. I should not 
like now to have him in the habit of spending 
his time idly around the mill in the com- 
panj^ of Jack's former associates ; but, now 
that he seems desirous of leaving off his 
old habits and improving himself, I do not 
think Dick, or any of us, can employ our- 
selves better than in lending him a helping 
hand. I confess, my expectations as to the 
results are not very sanguine ; but there is 
no harm, but, on the contrary, a great deal 
of good, in trying." 

"Come, aunt; now for our lecture," said 
Eichard, — "unless you are too tired. We 
shall listen with more interest than ever, 
now that we have really been in the neigh- 
bourhood of a wild animal." 

" I am going to get some cotton to wind 
on Jack's winders," said Miss Louisa. 
"Meantime, you can be settling yourselves 
to your liking." 

This was soon accomplished, Daisy taking 




The Jaguar. 



p. 177. 



THE JAGUAR. 177 



her seat between Richard and Sidney. 
Contrary to her aunt's expectation, she 
had not appeared to be alarmed by the 
panther-story, though she was quite excited 
about it, and asked Sidney a great many 
questions, seeming to regard him as quite 
a hero. 

''The jaguar," began Miss "Winston, ''is 
the tiger of this continent. It is a very 
beautiful animal, of a rich yellowish colour, 
marked with many spots of deep chocolate- 
brown, the markings being arranged in 
rings and open spots upon the sides and 
back. There is a black variety, in which 
the spots are scarcely to be distinguished; 
and white ones have occasionally been seen. 
The jaguar is much more heavily and 
powerfully built than the leopard, and 
seems greatly to excel it both in strength 
and c(jjirage. Its muscular force is amazing. 
D'Azara relates that, a jaguar having struck 
down a horse in the neighbourhood where 
he was, hQ gave directions that the carcass 
should be drawn within gunshot of a tree 
where he intended to pass the night, know- 
ing that the jaguar would return to his 
prey, and hoping thus to have a fair shot 



178 THE JAGUAR. 



at the robber. This arrangement, however, 
was unexpectedly frustrated. While he was 
gone to prepare himself, the jaguar re- 
turned from the opposite side of a river, 
drew the carcass of the horse, some sixty 
paces, to the w^ater's edge, and then, taking 
it in his mouth, swam w^ith it across the 
river, landed it, and drew it into a w^ood 
on the other side. All this took place in 
plain sight of a person whom D'Azara had 
left to w^atch." 

" I did not know that any of the cat kind 
would take to the water of their own ac- 
cord," remarked Richard. 

^'The jaguar does so frequently; and it 
has even been said that he indulges in the 
amusement of fishing. He drops some of 
his spittle on the water ; and, when a silly fish 
comes to see what it is, a clever blow of the 
paw lands him high and dry on the bank. 
However this may be, it is certain that he 
is a good swimmer, as the poor wood- 
cutters, of the Parana know to their cost, — 
since several of them are killed every year 
on board their own vessels. He seems to 
like almost any thing in the shape of 
animal food, from horses and cattle to tur- 



TIIK JAGUAR. 179 



ties and their eggs. Humboldt saj^s, ' We 
were shown many shells of the turtle 
emptied by the jaguars. These animals 
follow the turtles to the beach when^ the 
laying of the eggs is about to take place. 
Thej^ surprise them on the sand, and, in 
order to devour them at their ease, turn 
them in such a manner that the under shell 
is uppermost. In this situation the turtle 
cannot rise; and, as the jaguar turns many 
more than he can eat in one night, the In- 
dians often avail themselves of his cunning 
and malignant avidity. When we reflect 
upon the difliculty the naturalist has in 
getting at the body without separating the 
upper and under shells, we cannot enough 
admire the suppleness of the tiger's paw, 
which empties the double armour of the 
turtle as though the adhering parts had 
been cut by means of a surgical instrument. 
The jaguar pursues the turtle quite into the 
water when not very deep : it digs up the 
eggs, and is one of the most cruel enemies 
of the young turtle when lately hatched. 
It pursues the monkeys to the tops of the 
tallest trees ; for it is much more expert in 
climbing than the leopard. The great herds 



180 THE JAGUAR. 



of capybaras (a species of gnawing ani- 
mai about as large as a pig) and peccaries 
(an animal closely allied to the hog, but 
larger) furnish it food in the uninhabited 
districts. It is said that the jaguar has 
sometimes been suflbcated in a crowd of 
these animals, and that he is rather shy of 
falling in with them, sometimes climbing a 
tree to get out of their way. He is, however, 
very apt to avenge himself upon the last 
ones of the herd for the inconvenience the 
others have caused him.' 

" The jaguar is considerably dreaded both 
by Indians and whites, who do not willingly 
venture where he is known to haunt. He 
does not, however, seem very much inclined 
to attack man ; and the Indians aver that if 
there be a dog in the company he will take 
it in preference. Still, he is at times very 
dangerous. A story is told of a very large 
jaguar which entered a church in Santa Fe 
and killed two priests, one after the other, as 
they came in. A third priest, who came to 
see what the matter was, narrowly escaped 
with his life ; and the animal was then shot 
from one corner of the church unroofed for 
the purpose. Humboldt tells of an adven- 



THE JAGUAR. 181 



ture lie had with one on the banks of the 
Orinoco. While picking up some spangles 
of mica, he discovered the recent footprints 
of a jaguar; and, on raising his eyes, he saw 
the animal itself lying under a tree about 
eighty paces off. He candidly remarks that 
no tiger had ever appeared to him half so 
large.''' 

" That was rather worse than hearing the 
panther," said Annie. " What did he do ?" 

''I guess he ran away as fast as he could," 
said Daisy. 

''1^0 thing of the kind, my dear. He 
could not have done a more foolish thing 
than that, as the jaguar would be certain to 
pursue him. He says, 'I walked quietly on, 
avoided moving my arms, and I thought 
1 perceived that the jaguar's attention was 
fixed upon some capybaras which were 
crossing the river. I then began to return, 
making a wdde circuit towards the edge of 
the river. As the distance increased, I 
thought I might accelerate my pace. How 
often was I tempted to look back and see 
that I was not pursued ! Happily, I yielded 
to this desire very tardily.' Humboldt and 
his companion came several times in con- 

16 



182 THE JAGUAR. 



tact with this animal; and on one occasion 
it carried oflF a large dog which had accom- 
panied them in their travels. In proof of 
the statement that the jaguar has no par- 
ticular fondness for human flesh, he tells 
the story of a little Indian boy and girl, 
who were sitting on the grass of a savannah, 
or natural meadow, near the village of 
Atuces, when a large jaguar came bound- 
ing from the neighbouring forest and began 
playing with the children. His frolics, which 
were very gentle at first, began to grow 
rather rough ; and at last he struck the little 
boy so hard upon the forehead as to draw 
blood. Upon this the little girl took up 
the branch of a tree and struck the animal, 
which ran off without doing them any fur- 
ther injury, and seemingly as good-natured 
as ever." 

"That was very singular," remarked 
Richard. 

" Animals often take such freaks," replied 
Miss Winston. "Sometimes it has hap- 
pened that a lion has killed in succession 
three or four dogs which have been put 
into his den for companions to him, and 
then taken a violent fancy to a fifth, which, 



THE JAGUAR. 183 



instead of showing fear, has barked at him 
or perhaps boldly seized him by the mane. 
Cats, and especially those which have lost 
their kittens, have been known to adopt 
rabbits and even young rats ; and I myself 
knew of a cat which, compassionating the 
forlorn state of a young and orphaned 
woodchuck, kindly gave it a place among 
her own kittens. My uncle once had a 
large turkey-gobbler which used to collect 
together a large quantity of hens' eggs, 
hatch them himself and bring up the 
chickens with the greatest care imaginable. 
It is possible that the jaguar, feeling him- 
self perfectly secure of his prey, played with 
the children as a cat does with a mouse ; but 
I am more inclined to think that, being 
probably full fed and in good spirits, it was 
inclined to a good-natured frolic, and only 
drew blood by accident, as the best-disposed 
cat will sometimes do.'' 

" What sort of a noise do jaguars make ?" 
asked Daisy. 

" Their voice is said to resemble the lion's 
roar more closely than that of any other ani- 
mal ; and they are very noisy creatures, roar- 



184 THE JAGUAR. 



ing frequently during the night, especially 
in and before stormy weather." 

''That reminds me," said Sidney, ''Jack 
Short says that panthers cry and scream in 
the woods like a person in distress in order 
to induce people to come to them and be 
devoured. Do you think there is any truth 
in it, grandfather ?" he concluded, appeal- 
ing to Mr. Winston, who had just entered 
the room. 

" I am inclined to think it merely the 
hunter's superstition," replied Mr. "Winston. 
"They have many strange fancies, you 
know." 

"I do not wonder at it," observed Miss 
Louisa. " There must be something very 
exciting to the imagination in the life they 
lead, away in the deep woods day after day, 
with no companions except their dogs, 
hearing all sorts of strange noises and see- 
ing things in strange lights. It is no won- 
der they grow superstitious." 

"I have always wanted to sleep in the 
woods a night or two," said Sidney. 

"You must get Erastus Waterman to 
take you out upon some of his tramps," re- 
plied his grandfather. "He is the best 



THE JAGUAR. 185 



woodsman I know of, and can give you 
much valuable information about out-of- 
door matters; and he is a very harmless, 
good fellow besides. I presume he is all 
in a fever of excitement about this panther- 
story ; and I prophesy that if the animal is 
to be shot he will be the one to do it." 

" I hope he will," said Richard : '' it would 
make him happy for the rest of his life. Is 
there any more about the jaguar, aunt?" 

" I believe we have exhausted the sub- 
ject, except that the animal is said to be 
much annoyed by the yelping of foxes, 
which follow him and keep up a continual 
clamour which betrays his movements." 

" I wonder if they do it to warn the other 
animals?" said Daisy. 

''I hardly imagine they are so disin- 
terested as that. Probably they pursue 
him, as the jackal and hyena do the lion, in 
order to feast upon what he leaves." 



16^ 



186 BOOKS. 



CHAPTER VI. 

THE TIGER AND LION. 

True to their promise, the boys set out 
next day to carry down some books to Jack 
Short. Sidney selected his favourite " North- 
ern Eegions,"* — an excellent - choice, for 
more reasons than one : first, as being a very 
interesting book, and secondly because it 
was so nearly in pieces already that a little 
more rough usage could do it no harm. 
After a good deal of consideration, Richard 
decided upon the ''Youth's Cabinet of Bio- 
graphy,"* to which he added ''Robert Daw- 
son"^ and "The Two Carpenters,"* thinking 
that Jack might possibly learn a lesson from 
one and his parents from the other. When 
they showed their selections to Annie, she 
agreed that they had made a very good 

^ Published by the American Sunday-School Union. 



JACK SHORT AGAIN. 187 



choice ; but she advised them to put paper 
covers on the books, and offered to do it her- 
self, as she was remarkably neat in all such 
matters. Eichard demurred a little. 

"It will look as if we were afraid he 
would spoil them." 

"Never mind if it does," said Annie. 
"Just tell him that you covered them so 
that they need not get injured so easily. 
And, besides, I really think it will be an 
improvement to them, — especially to the 
'Northern Eegions.' " 

Jack was sitting up in bed, busy with his 
knife as before ; but, for a wonder, his mother 
was with him. His eyes sparkled at the sight 
of the neat brown-paper covers, and still more 
at the pictures. Mrs. Short, on the contrary, 
looked a little annoyed. "I don't see what 
you are going to do with all these books, 
Jack," she remarked, "except make your 
head ache and use up your sister's time read- 
ing to you. People that are reading forever 
never do any thing else they ought to." 

"I don't know about that, mother," said 
Jack. "It seems to me as if they did." 

" No doubt you know more about it than 
any one else," said Mrs. Short, peevishly; 



188 POOR BOYS. 



''but I never saw any good come of poring 
over books. It may do well enough for 
those that haven't any thing to do but amuse 
themselves ; but it a'n't the thing for poor 
folks/' 

"It makes poor folks rich folks some- 
times/' remarked Richard, good-naturedly. 
" Some of the most learned and useful men 
in the world have begun poor boys and 
worked themselves up. I recollect hearing 
my grandfather tell of a friend of his who 
used to take his Greek grammar with him 
when he went out to milk, and stick it in 
a crack of the fence to keep it open, so that 
he could look at it now and then while he 
milked; and he is now one of the most 
learned professors in the country. Dr. 
Franklin was a poor boy ; so was Mi*. Web- 
ster; and so have been many others who are 
now rich and respected. My grandfather's 
family were poor, I know; and he got his 
education by working for it." 

Mrs. Short looked but half convinced. 
"It may do for men, perhaps; but it a'n't 
the thing for women, anyway. My father 
always said the Bible and the cooker^^-book 
were library enough for any woman, and 



JACK SHORT. 189 



that learning only made them neglect their 
domestic concerns." 

Sidney could hardly repress a smile, as he 
looked at Mrs. Short's slatternly person and 
at the dirty, comfortless room, and contrasted 
both with the neat, economical and elegant 
housekeeping of Mrs. Crediton and the 
ladies whom he knew. 

'' I wish you'd get a cookery-book, mo- 
ther," said Jack. ^'I mean to make you a 
present of one the first money I earn," he 
added, seeing his mother look displeased; 
'' and then you will have a complete library 
according to grandfather's notions." 

^'You had better try to pay a little of 
what's been done for you," retorted Mrs. 
Short, colouring. ''A pretty return you 
make for all my care of you ! — just as soon 
as you get a little better, going and saying 
before strangers that you never have any 
thing fit to eat, — you ungrateful boy !" 

"I didn't say so," said Jack, sullenly. 

"You said just as much; and I should 
think you would be ashamed of yourself — 
that you should — making out that you never 
have any thing done for you, when I have 
been worked ofi* my feet taking care of you ! 



190 JACK SHORT. 



But you'll find out some cla}^ when I am 
dead and gone, what it is to have a mother.'' 
So saying, she bounced out of the room. 

Jack looked very much annoyed and dis- 
turbed. ''Isn't that pleasant?" he said. 
''I didn't mean any thing, I'm sure; but she 
does take one up so." 

''I think perhaps it would have been 
better not to have said it," replied Sidney, 
in his quiet way; ''but I am sure you did 
not mean any harm. I would not worry 
about it," he continued, seeing Jack's eyes 
filled with tears. "I dare say she won't 
think any more of it." 

Jack passed his hand over his eyes. "I'm 
so weak, or something, every little thing 
makes me cry," he said, apologetically. 
"I've cried more times since I was sick 
than ever I did before in my life." 

"Don't think any more about it," said 
Richard. " I will read to you a while ; and 
then we must go home to dinner." 

Richard began the "Northern Regions," 
and read the first two chapters. Jack whit- 
tling away industriously all the time. When 
he had finished, ihej rose to go. 

"How well you read!" said Jack. "I 



JACK SHORT. 19i 



have to spell ever so many words ; but you 
go right on, as smooth as can be/' 

"You would soon get over that if you 
would read aloud every day" said^Bichard, 
suppressing a smile at the idea of his having 
to spell words in reading. "I expect you 
will get on famously when we begin our 
lessons together." 

"Are you in earnest?" asked Jack. 
" When will you begin ?" 

"Next week, perhaps, if you are well 
enough : you must not be in too much of a 
hurry, or you will make yourself sick again. 
I will ask grandfather about books, and we 
can talk it over the next time I come." 

Jack lay a long time after the boys had 
left him, partly thinking over what Richard 
had read, partly wondering what made the 
difference between his new friends and him- 
self. There was certainly a great difference ; 
for he could not help feeling as though it 
were an honour for them to come and see 
him. Richard was no older, and he was not 
by any means so strong or active as himself. 
To-be-sure, his grandfather was a very rich 
man and his father was a captain in the 
navy ; but Jack did not think that was it. 



102 THE TIGER. 



Tom Hayward's father was very rich ; and 
yet nobody thought of respecting Tom. It 
certainh^ was not because he was so well 
dressed or so handsome ; for Richard was 
not a handsome boy, and his every-day 
clothes at least were of the very plainest 
description. Jack could not come at any 
solution of the problem which satisfied him : 
so he plunged into the "Northern Regions," 
and read till he began to dream ; and Sarah 
Anne, coming in, found him asleep with the 
book over his nose. 

"Now for tigers!" said Richard, after 
tea. 

"Do tigers come first, or lions?" asked 
Sidne3^ 

"Tigers, I should say," said Annie. "We 
have begun at the smallest and gone up- 
wards ; and lions are larger than tigers." 

"Are they?" asked Sidney, doubtfully. 
"A lion's mane makes him look very large 
in front, and he holds his head higher ; but 
I should say there was not much difl:erence 
in the weight. Aunt," he continued, as 
Miss Winston entered, " which is the largest, 
— the tiger or the lion ?" 

"I should say the lion," replied Miss 



THE TIGER. 193 



Louisa. '^ He is the strongest, at any rate, 
and seems to possess more intelligence." 

"And to have a better disposition," re- 
marked Annie. 

"Why, as to that," said Miss Louisa, 
"perhaps the less we say the better. A 
great many grand qualities have been attri- 
buted to the lion, which we may find, upon 
examination, do not belong to him any 
more than to the rest of his family. The 
lion has a very noble and majestic expres- 
sion of face ; and people have, perhaps, been 
too hasty in reversing the popular proverb 
and concluding that 'handsome does that 
handsome is.' " 

"Which shall we have to-night?" asked 
Dais3^ 

" The tiger, I think, — though we may have 
time for both. I had reserved the lion for 
the end of the cat kind, or genus Felis, as 
he is generally regarded a« the type of that 
family." 

" I do not exactly know what you mean 
by that expression," said Annie, — "though 
I have often seen it in books." 

"I mean that the lion combines more of 
the characteristics of the genus Felis, and 
ir 



194 ' THE TIGER. 



those m greater perfection, than any of the 
rest of the tribe. Thus, he possesses the 
greatest strength and agility, the most 
piercing sight and the most daring courage : 
his claws are perfectly retractile, and his 
tongue has the horny points most perfectly 
developed. I might enumerate other items ; 
but I think these will be sufficient to make 
you understand what I mean." 

" So you would call the eagle the typical 
animal of the birds of prey?" said Annie. 

" True. So we will leave the lion till the 
last, and take up the tiger. Are you all 
settled?" 

''I am settled," said Daisy, producing her 
knitting, (which began to make quite rapid 
progress,) and seating herself upon her fa- 
vourite stool bj^ Annie. 

''We are all ready," echoed Sidney. 
"Please begin, aunt." 

''The tiger, as you probably know," be- 
gan Miss Louisa, "is a native of the warm- 
est regions of the globe. It seems, however, 
to have considerable pov>^er of resisting cold, 
as Bishop Heber, in his admirable Journal, 
states that it is found on the Himalaya 
Mountains quite up to the glaciers ; and he 







The Tiger. 



THE TIGER. 195 



adds that the cold does not seem to dimi- 
nish either its size or its ferocity. Even 
upon the Asiatic continent its range seems 
to be rather limited, as it is rarely or never 
found v^est of the river Indus. It is not 
uncommon in China, and is found in Suma- 
tra and Java, as well as so far north as the 
great deserts which separate China from Si- 
beria. But the hot and fertile plains of 
Hindostan, with the neighbouring islands, 
seem to be the tigers' paradise. Here they 
increase and multiply to an amazing extent, 
and cause the death of many human victims 
every year. This is especially the case in 
the neighbourhood of Singapore, where men 
and women are almost daily carried away 
from the close neighbourhood of the town. 
" The tiger grows to the length of six 
feet exclusive of the tail, and is usually 
about two feet eight inches high at the 
shoulder. His colour is a tawny yellow, 
very bright and lively when the animal is 
in health, passing into pure white under- 
neath and brindled with black bands and 
stripes. The tigress is ordinarily said to be 
less lively in colour than her mate ; and the 
young are grayish, having the stripes very 



196 THE TIGBE. 



obscure. Tigers are occasionally found al- 
most white. The head is well proportioned ; 
the eye is fierce and lively and has a scowling 
expression; the jaws are massive; the teeth, 
especially the canines, are very large, and 
the general expression extremely grim and 
ferocious. The whole figure of the tiger is 
elegant in its outlines; and nothing can. ex- 
ceed the grace of all its movements, even 
when pacing to and fro in the narrow limits 
of a cage. "We can easily imagine what 
they must be when the animal is at full 
liberty." 

''I am afraid I should not appreciate his 
beauty in that case," said Richard, laughing. 
*' On the whole, I prefer to see him in his 
cage." 

'^But wouldn't you like to see one for 
once, Dick?" asked Sidney. ^' If you were 
in a safe place, — on the back of an elephant, 
for instance, — wouldn't you like to see a 
tiger-hunt ?" 

"Yes, I suppose I should," replied Rich- 
ard, '' if I got engaged and excited about it. 
Is the tiger really as ferocious as he is said 
to be, aunt?" 

"I suppose," said Miss Louisa, "that, 



THE TIGER. 197 



taking him all in all, lie is the fiercest of all 
wild beasts. Nothing escapes his fury when 
roused by revenge or hunger ; and I have 
seen it stated that they will even devour 
one another. The tigers of a district usually 
have their especial haunts, to which they 
constantly resort. A very favourite one is 
the neighbourhood of a spring or pool, or a 
watering-place in the river, to which all the 
animals of the neighbourhood resort for 
water. Here, about the close of day or at 
dawn, the tiger takes his station, and, care- 
fully concealing himself in a crouching atti- 
tude, his head laid on his paws and his eager 
ear taking note of every sound, he awaits 
his prey. First come the more timid crea- 
tures, — the birds and squirrels, — which he 
disdains to meddle with ; then the antelopes 
and all the several herds of deer, among 
them the niel-ghie, the largest and stateliest 
of the tribe in India. He is not long in se- 
lecting his victim. A horrid roar or growl 
is heard, and with one tremendous bound 
he springs upon the luckless animal, crush- 
ing his head with a blow of his immense 
paw. Then, taking it in his mouth, he 
carries it away easily enough to his den. 

17^ 



198 THE TIGER. 



Should a flock of wild peacocks chance to 
approach his covert, however, he may give 
up his sport for that time : since, the moment 
they catch a sight of the monster, they begin 
to strut around him with trailing wings and 
expanded tails, making all the noise in their 
power, till every creature within hearing is 
apprized of his w^hereabouts." 

^'That seems very odd," said Sidney. '^I 
wonder why they do it." 

" That I cannot tell you ; but the fact is 
said to be well attested. The leading bull 
of a herd of bufialoes will often perceive 
the neighbourhood of the tiger and actually 
drive him Siwaj, 

" When the tiger obtains a taste of human 
flesh, he prefers it to all other food, and will 
take the utmost pains to attain it. These 
man-eaters, — as they are called, — which are 
said to be usually females, commonly select 
a lair in the neighbourhood of some village, 
where a ruined fort or temple, deserted and 
overgrown with weeds, afibrds them a con- 
venient shelter. Here they take up their 
head-quarters ; and woe to the villager who 
ventures out after dark or who seeks a se- 
cluded place to perform his ablutions. He 



THE TIGER. 199 



is almost certain to become the prey of the 
man-eaters. Women are carried off, chil- 
dren are constantly missing, and every one 
is in distress and terror. At last, perhaps, a 
party of British officers come into the neigh- 
bourhood, and the head-man of the village 
waits upon the sahibs with an humble peti- 
tion that they will deliver them from their 
cruel foe. The sahibs, on their part, wish 
for no better fun. Elephants are procured, 
rifles made ready ; and in a few days the 
dreaded man-eater lies dead before the feet 
of her enemies, who will lose no time in 
singeing off her whiskers, saluting her in the 
mean time with a variety of expressions 
more forcible than select, addressed to her- 
self and all her ancestors." 

^' Why do they singe off her whiskers?" 
asked Annie. 

"In order that they may not be haunted 
by the spirit of the tiger, which is sure to 
appear to them (as they believe) unless they 
go through this ceremony." 

" That story of the man-eater reminds me 
of something I found in looking for texts 
about leopards," said Richard. "It is in 
Isaiah v. 6 : — ' Wherefore a lion out of the 



200 THE TIGER. 



forest shall slay them, a wolf of the evening 
shall spoil them ; a leopard shall watch over 
their cities : every one that goeth out shall 
be torn in pieces.' That seems something 
like it, does it not?" 

"Very much," replied Miss Louisa; ^'and, 
though I have never heard this habit attri- 
buted to the leopard, it may very probably 
belong to him, as he resembles the tiger in 
so many other respects." 

" There is nothing said about tigers in the 
Bible, that I remember," said Sidney. 

"No ; and it appears that this animal was 
unknown to the Jews, as it was to the Greeks 
and the Romans, until quite a late day. 
Augustus had a tame tiger, which was the 
first one known to his countrymen ; and, 
about forty years later, Claudius exhibited 
four at one time. A beautiful mosaic, which 
was dug up not long since at Rome, repre- 
senting four tigers, is supposed to have been 
made in commemoration of this grand dis- 
play. In the later days of the empire, 
tigers were not uncommon in the shows ; 
and it is said that the bones of one were 
found in the ruins at Pompeii." 



TiaEE-HUNTS. 201 



" I should like to see a tiger-hunt," said 
Sidney. 

" You may find many accounts of them 
in the works of writers upon India/' replied 
Miss "Winston. '' The tiger is the favourite 
game of European sportsmen in that coun- 
try ; and, considering the mischief done by 
these animals, and the difficulty of destroy- 
ing them without a large force of men and 
elephants, a tiger-hunt may be considered 
as among the most useful, as it is certainly 
among the most exciting, of field-sports. 
The very mention of one of these animals 
in the neighbourhood of an encampment of 
English troops is enough to arouse all the 
ardour of officers and men. All the ele- 
phants are put in requisition ; and, with an 
immense number of followers, they move 
forward to the scene of action, which is 
often a thick jungle or a plain covered with 
high grass and rushes. But I will read you 
an account of one of these expeditions from 
the pen of an excellent sportsman, which 
will serve to show the way the affair is con- 
ducted, and the ardour with which the ele- 
phants themselves sometimes enter into the 
pursuit. We must consider our hero as 



202 TIGER-HUNTS. 



having set out from camp, with the usual 
array of elephants carrying white sahibs 
and of half-naked Indian followers on foot, 
all anxious to see the show, and ready to do 
their part by pressing, like a boy looking for 
a bird's nest, into every bush large enough 
to conceal a tiger. 

'' ' "We found immense quantities of game, 
wild hogs, the hog-deer, and the niel-ghie, 
(literally, blue cow, — a large species of ante- 
lope.) We, however, strictly abstained from 
firing, reserving our whole battery for the 
nobler game the tiger. It was perhaps for- 
tunate that we did not find one in the thick 
part of the forest, as the trees were so close- 
set and so interwoven with parasitic plants 
and thorns that the elephants were often 
obliged to clear a way for themselves by 
their own pressing exertions. It is curious, 
on these occasions, to see the enormous trees 
these animals will overthrow at a word from 
the mahout or driver : they place their fore- 
heads against the obnoxious object, twisting 
their trunk around it, and gradually bending 
it towards the ground until they can place 
a foot upon it. This done, down comes the 
tree, with cracking stem and upturned roots. 



TIGER-HUNTS. 203 



The elephant must be well educated to per- 
form this duty in a gentlemanlike manner, 
without roaring sulkily, or shaking his 
rider by too violent exertions.' " 

'^They would be nice animals to help 
clear up a new farm," observed Richard: 
" only it would take a great deal to keep 
them." 

" And it w^ould be rather difficult to pro- 
vide for their comfort in our northern win- 
ters/' said Miss Louisa. '^ They are used 
in farming-operations in Ceylon, where the 
English planters teach them to draw a 
plough." 

''What are parasitic plants, aunt?" asked 
Daisy. 

''Parasitic plants are those which grow 
on other trees and plants. The gigantic 
flower discovered by Sir Stamford Raffles 
was a parasite." 

" Well, come ; let us get on with our tiger- 
hunt," said Sidney, rather impatiently. 
" We can hear about elephants and such 
things another time." 

" ' On clearing the woods,' " continued 
Miss Louisa, " ' we entered an open plain of 
swampy grass not three feet high. A large 



204 ^ TIGER-HUNTS. 



herd of cattle was feeding there, and the 
herdsmen were sitting singing under a 
bush, when, just as the former began to 
move ofi* before us, up sprang the very tiger 
to whom our visit was intended and can- 
tered off" across a bare plain dotted here 
and there with small patches of bush-jungle. 
He took to the open country in a style 
that would have more become a fox than a 
tiger, who is expected by his pursuers to 
fight and not to run ; and, as he was flushed 
on the flank of the line, only one bullet was 
fired at him ere he cleared the thick grass. 
He was unhurt; and we pursued him at 
full speed. Thrice he threw us out by 
stopping short in small strips of jungle 
and then heading back after we had passed; 
and he had given us a very fast trot of 
about two miles, when Colonel Arnold, who 
led the field, at last reached him by a capital 
shot, his elephant being in full career. As 
soon as he felt himself wounded, the tiger 
crept into a close thicket of trees and 
bushes, and crouched. The two leading 
sportsmen overran the spot where he lay ; 
and, as I came up, I saw him, through 
an aperture, ready to eftect a charge. My 



TiaER-HUNTS. 205 



mahout had just before, in the heat of the 
chase, dropped his ankee or goad, which I 
had refused to allow him to recover ; and the 
elephant, being notoriously savage, and fur- 
ther irritated by the goading he had re- 
ceived, became perfect]}^ unmanageable. He 
appeared to see the tiger as soon as myself; 
and I had only time to fire one shot, when 
he suddenly rushed with the greatest fury 
into the thicket, and, falling upon his knees, 
nailed the tiger w^ith his tusks to the ground. 
Such was the violence of the shock that my 
servant, who sat behind, was thrown out, and 
one of the guns went overboard. The 
struggles of the elephant to crush his still- 
resisting foe, which had fixed one paw in 
his eye, w^ere so energetic that I was forced 
to hold on with all my strength to keep my- 
self in the howdah. The second barrel of 
the gun which I still retained in my hand 
went oft* in the midst of the scuffle, the 
ball passing close to the mahout's ear, whose 
situation — poor fellow! — was any thing 
but enviable. As soon as my elephant was 
prevailed upon to leave the killing-part of 
the business to the sportsmen, they gave the 
roughly-used tiger the coup de grace. It 

18 



206 TIGER-HUNTS. 



was a very fine female, with the most beau- 
tiful skin I ever saw.' " 

^'I should say that elephant was rather 
inconveniently interested in the sport," re- 
marked Sidney. ''I should rather have one 
who would be contented to do as he was 
told. But I should think the elephants 
themselves would be likely to sufier. Their 
trunks hang down directly in the way." 

'' They are aware of that ; and, as soon as 
they perceive the neighbourhood of a tiger, 
they raise their trunks high in the air, or 
else roll them up and pack them into a 
very small compass between their tusks. It 
sometimes happens that a tiger bolder than 
ordinary will spring upon the back of an 
elephant and endeavour by main force to 
bring him to the ground, — in which he some- 
times succeeds. Usually, however, the ele- 
phant is able to shake him o% — in which 
case he either crushes him to death by 
kneeling on him, or gives him a kick, 
which breaks half his ribs and sends him 
flying perhaps twenty paces. 

"But the tiger is often destroyed in a 
much less ostentatious manner. Some- 
times it is killed by means of a poisoned 



TIGER-HUNTS. 207 



arrow shot from a bow placed w^ith great 
nicety in the neighbourhood of the path 
where the tiger passes to drink, and so ar- 
ranged by means of a cord that the tiger 
discharges it himself. Such is the skill 
with which the apparatus is arranged that 
he is almost invariably shot through the 
lungs or heart, and he is usually found dead 
near the spot Another device consists of a 
spherical cage made of strong bamboos 
woven together with intervals of three or 
four inches between them. This apparatus 
is fastened to the ground, by means of strong 
stakes, in the place frequented by tigers ; and 
Tinder it a man takes his station, armed with 
three or four sharp, strong spears, accompa- 
nied by a dog or tame goat to give the alarm 
when the foe approaches. Thus provided, 
he wraps himself up in his quilt and goes to 
sleep, trusting to his companion to awaken 
him in time. Presently comes the tiger, 
and, after smelling all around, begins to rear 
himself against the cage, whereupon the 
man stabs him through the bars and 
almost always succeeds in killing him. 

"Another way of destroying the tiger 
seems rather ludicrous, — though the poor 



208 TIGER-HUNTS. 



animal finds it any thing but amusing. The 
ordinary track of a tiger being ascertained, 
the country-people collect a great quantity 
of large leaves, and, after smearing them with 
a kind of birdlime, made of the crushed ber- 
ries of an Indian tree, they strew them in 
abundance, with the sticky side uppermost, 
near the shady spots where the tiger is 
wont to resort. Woe to him if he treads upon 
any of these treacherous leaves ! He begins 
by shaking his paw to remove the annoy- 
ance, and, not succeeding in that way, he 
rubs it against his head, by means of which 
his eyes and ears become covered. After a 
while the tiger begins to roll among the 
sticky leaves, and to howl in the extremity 
of his distress ; and this brings the peasants to 
the place, who find no difficulty in destroying 
him. The tiger has also been taken in a 
box-trap with a looking-glass on the inside. 
The deluded animal attacks his own image, 
supposing it to be another tiger, and thus 
disengages the cover, which falls and takes 
him prisoner." 

Daisy and Sidney both laughed at the idea 
of catching a tiger by means of his own pic- 
ture. Richard seemed inclined to doubt it; 



TIGER-HUNTS. 209 



but Miss Winston said it was well auttenti- 
cated. 

"You know how a cat will often jump at 
her own image in a glass ; and a canary-bird 
will spend hours fluttering before a mirror 
and looking behind it to catch the seeming 
bird. 

" The tigress is very fond of her young, 
and will run any risk in defence of them. 
They are quite blind and helpless when 
borUj and of a dark-grayish colour, very 
obscurely striped. If taken very young, 
they are easily tamed and become quite 
docile and even fond of their keeper, 
though they can never be rendered so com- 
placent or so trustworthy as the lion ; 
and you may have observed that the mena- 
gerie-people never venture to take the same 
liberties with them. The fakirs of India — ' 
who are religious beggars, something like 
the mendicant friars of Eoman Catholic 
countries — are often accompanied by tame 
tigers, which they lead about by cords and 
which occupy at night the same lair with 
their master. To-be-sure, it now and then 
happens that a tiger eats up his reverend 
companion ; but to persons of their way 

18* 



210 HABITS OF THE TIGER. 



of thinking this might seem a matter of small 
consequence. Other instances have been 
known of a strong attachment growing up 
between a man and a tiger. At one time 
there was in the Tower of London a tigress 
of great beauty, which had been allowed 
to range freely about the vessel in which 
she w^as brought over, and had become at- 
tached to many of the sailors, especially 
to one w^ho was her especial keeper and 
feeder. On her arrival in the Thames and 
at the Tower, the bustle and noise in the 
neighbourhood produced such an effect 
upon her that she became very savage and 
sulky ; and the man who had charge of 
the animals in the Tower, w^as unwilling to 
permit her former keeper, who came to see 
her, to enter her den. As soon, however, 
as the tigress perceived him, she fawned 
upon him, licked his hands and his face, 
and showed the most extravagant signs 
of joy, and, after her friend left her, cried 
and w^hined for the remainder of the day." 

" How uncomfortable it must be to live 
in the midst of such creatures !" said Annie. 
"I think if I were in the neighbourhood 
of a tiger I should never go out of the 



HABITS OF THE TIGER. 211 



house without thinking he was at my 
elbow. I suppose, however, one would 
get used to it, as people do to living in the 
neighbourhood of a volcano." 

" Where tigers abound in any consider- 
able numbers, they generally contrive to 
keep themselves remembered," said Miss 
Louisa. " The natives are very much afraid 
of them at all times. It has sometimes 
happened that palankin-travellers have 
been placed in imminent peril by the alarm 
of their bearers, who on the first appear- 
ance of the dreaded animal put down 
their burden and take to flight." 

" Cowardly rascals !" exclaimed Richard, 
indignantly. 

" I think you judge them rather harshly, 
Richard. Self-preservation is, in each cir- 
cumstance, the first thought of almost 
everybody; and it is hardly to be expected 
that the bearers should risk their lives for 
the sake of a perfect stranger, who, being 
usually armed, has a much better chance of 
escape than the naked and defenceless 
Hindoos. On one occasion, a gentleman 
travelling in this way perceived a very 
large tiger quietly reposing under the shade 



212 HABITS OF THE TIGER. 



of a biisli not far from the roadside. Hap- 
pily, the bearers did not see him, and trotted 
on, and the tiger, being either asleep or 
fully fed, suffered them to pass without 
molestation. In general, the natives are 
well informed as to the haunts and habits 
of the tiger; and some lives have been 
lost by the rashness of young officers in 
]iot attending to their counsels. I recollect 
one instance in which a native guide 
endeavoured earnestly to dissuade an of- 
ficer who was travelling express from 
setting out before daj'break, as the country 
through which they had to pass was wooded 
and had been very much infested with 
tigers. The officer, in his self-conceit, 
thought the man was making excuses for 
his own laziness, and finallj^ accused him 
of cowardice and falsehood. The guide 
said no more, but took his arms and went 
on before, and the officer followed, exult- 
ing, no doubt, in his success in over- 
coming obstacles. The moon was shining, 
and gave light enough to distinguish 
objects. They were proceeding along 
a narrow path, when a tremendous roar 
was heard, and a tiger sprang from the 



HABITS OF THE TIGER. 213 



thicket. The poor guide turned and held 
up his sword and shield to oppose his foe; 
but in vain : he was at once struck to the 
earth by the tiger, which seized him in his 
mouth, and, turning, looked the officer full in 
the face, growling like a cat over a mouse. 
The whole party were paralj^zed for an 
instant; and before they could recover 
themselves the tiger had bounded over 
the bushes again and was lost to sight. 
They remained in the same place till day- 
light, and then searched the forest ; but in 
vain : nothing was found of the man thus 
cruelly sacrificed except his sword (which he 
had retained for some little time) and a few 
traces of blood." 

"I wonder how the officer felt?" said 
Sidney. " I think I should almost rather 
have been in the guide's place than in his." 

"It almost cost him his life," replied 
Miss Louisa. *^'He had a severe fever; and 
he told people, long afterwards, that he 
hardly ever went to sleep — especially if he 
was a little unwell — without having the 
whole scene before him. It is to be hoped 
that he learned a lesson from it whicli 
would be of use to him in future." 



214 HABITS OF THE TIGER. 



''Aunt, do you tliink that story is true 
about the lady unfurling the umbrella in 
the tiger's face ?" asked Annie. 

"What is it?" asked Daisy. ''I never 
heard it." 

" The story is that a party of ladies and 
gentlemen were out upon a picnic-excur- 
sion, or some such thing, when they saw 
a tiger all ready to spring upon them. One 
of the ladies seized an umbrella and opened 
it in the face of the animal, which fled in 
alarm and gave them a chance to escape." 

''It showed a great deal of presence of 
mind, if she really did it," observed Rich- 
ard. 

"Undoubtedly. But I do not think it 
a very probable story. The tiger very 
seldom shows himself before he makes his 
leap ; and, after he had sprung, I can hardly 
suppose he would be likely, or, indeed, 
able, to turn aside for an umbrella." 

" But if the tiger was only crouching 
ready for a spring," suggested Richard. 

"In that case, it is possible that the 
^animal may have been confounded by the 
suddenness and the very audacity of the 
action." 



HABITS 01' THE TIGER. 215 



^'I should like to think it true," said Sid- 
ney. ''I like all stories about presence of 
mind." 

"• Oh, you may believe it, if you please," 
said Miss Louisa, smiling. '' It rests upon 
very good authority; and it is undoubtedly 
true that the tiger, if disappointed in his 
first spring, will often retire sulkily without 
attempting it a second time." 

''Do you know any more stories about 
tigers?" asked Sidney. 

''Plenty more," replied Miss "Winston, 
smiling; "but I must refer you to the 
books for them, as we have more than used 
up our time for to-night. To-morrow we 
will begin upon the lion, — the king of 
beasts, as he is called." 

The next day proved altogether rainy. 
Eain, rain, a steady determined down-pour, 
from morning till night, entirely prevented 
any going out of the house. Sport re- 
treated to his kennel, and lay with his nose 
on his paws, and a very disgusted expression 
of countenance, looking sometimes at the 
clouds, sometimes at the chickens, who were ' 
poking about in the rain, with their feathers 
all wet and draggled, and at the ducks, who 



210 NEWS AT THE VILLAGE. 



seemed thoroughly to enjoy it, gabbling and 
wagging their tails round the puddles 
in the barnj-ard, and everj^ now and then 
making a waddling excursion down to the 
river-side. The children employed them- 
selves as well as they could in various in- 
door tasks and recreations ; and Richard and 
Annie had a famous game of battledore and 
shuttlecock in the hall, wherein Annie was 
actually beaten without getting the least out 
of humour! Towards evening it cleared up 
a little, and Sidney drove down to the vil- 
lage in the little covered carriage to get the 
letters and to do some errands for his aunt. 
He found the post-office — the usual village 
exchange — full of men, all talking about the 
panther, or " painter," as some of them chose 
to call it; and it was with some difficultj^ 
that he made his way through and got his 
letters and papers from David Barton, who 
acted as clerk for his father. There was 
quite a parcel of them ; and, as David was 
tying them up for Sidney's convenience, he 
said, — 

" They are all talking about the pan- 
ther-hunt, Sid. Don't you wish you could 
go?" 



NEWS AT THE VILLAGE. 217 



"Yes, indeed: I should like it above all 
things. But I suppose they won't take any 
boys: will they ?" 

"Father said I might go if I like," said 
David, "but I know he wants to go himself; 
and I rather think I shall stay and 'tend 
store." 

" Have they heard any thing more about 
the panther?" asked Sidney. "Has he 
been seen ?" 

"No, but his tracks have. Two pigs have 
been carried ofi' from Bowker's farm ; and 
Jemmy Bowker thought he heard him 
when he was out looking for his cows last 
night. But then Jemmy is afraid of his 
shadow ; and if he heard any one say ' pan- 
ther' while he was out in the pasture, he 
would think a whole pack of them were after 
him." 

" They might say the same of us," said 
Sidney, smiling. " You know we had been 
hearing all sorts of stories about them just 
before." 

"Yes, I know; and, if nothing had hap- 
pened to make us certain that there was 
something in it, I should almost have 

19 



218 NKWS AT THE VILLAGE. 



thought we had let our miaginations run 
away with us." 

" So should not I," said Sidney. "It was 
quite too plain for that; and the sound was 
unlike any thing I ever heard." 

" What was that ?" asked one of the men, 
turning round. 

'^ We were talking about hearing the pan- 
ther," replied David; "and Sidney was say- 
ing he never heard any thing like it." 

"No, I should think not," said the man. 
"I guess you were a little scared, weren't 
you? No shame to you if you were," 
he added, good-naturedly. "You needn't 
colour up so." 

" They didn't act as if they were very much 
scared," said Erastus Waterman, who was 
sitting quietly among the talkers with his 
dogs at his feet. " It was no joke having a 
parcel of little young ones in the neighbour- 
hood of such a beast; and if the boys had 
been very much frightened they wouldn't 
have kept it to themselves and never have 
told any one but the minister." 

"Didn't they?" asked the man who had 
spoken before, and whose name w^as Dean. 

"Not a word," replied Mr. Barton. "My 



A HUNT PROPOSED. 219 



Lizzie never knew any thing about it till 
the next day. As likely as not she would 
have gone into fits if she had, for she is 
easily frightened." 

" Well, they were brave fellows, that's a 
fact," said Dean ; " and I for one will give 
them the panther's skin, if it is my luck to 
get it." 

" I wouldn't promise it to any one if I 
were you, Jacob," observed Erastus, dryly. 
" The painter wears it himself just at pre- 
sent; and maybe he will wear it out before 
you get hold of it." 

^' And you won't promise to go with us ?" 
said Bowker. 

''I won't say I will, nor I won't say 1 
won't," replied Erastus, slowly. "This is 
Friday, and you a'n't going till Monday ; and 
there's room for a good many things to hap- 
pen before then. I wish you good luck, 
boys, whether I do or don't. I'll take my 
traps, squire, if you've got them ready." 
And, pocketing his parcels and gathering up 
his long limbs, he took his departure, fol- 
lowed by his dogs. 

"Depend upon it," said Mr. Winston, 
when Sidney repeated the conversation at 



220 THE LION. 



home, — " depend upon it, Erastus means to 
go after the panther himself. The old fel- 
low will set out and get back, and very 
likely bring the animal with him, while the 
others are talking about it." 

"I should like to go with him," said Sid- 
ney. 

" He would hardly be willing to take you. 
Your inexperience might spoil his sport, 
and there might be some danger. At any 
other time I presume he would be glad of 
your company; and I should not object to 
your going with him and learning a few 
lessons in woodcraft. We will talk to him 
about it. Meantime, here comes j'Our aunt 
with her lions and tigers." 

''Now for the king of the forest," said 
Annie, as they seated themselves, " Why 
is he called so, aunt?" 

''That I cannot tell you," replied Miss 
Winston. " He is seldom or never found in 
forests or even in thick jungles, but frequents 
mostly sandy deserts or the open grassy coun- 
try, where a thin strip of bushes and high 
grass around the rivers and water-holes 
affords him as much cover as he wants. The 
lion is found in Asia from the Euphrates to 




p. 320. 



THE LION. 221 



the borders of China, and all over Africa. 
Its range formerly extended over Syria, Asia 
Minor and the northern parts of Greece; 
and some ancient writers have declared that 
it was formerly found on the Danube ; but 
this is a disputed point. Herodotus — who, 
as you know, Richard, is the earliest of pro- 
fane historians — says that the baggage-camels 
of Xerxes were attacked by lions in Mace- 
donia ; and that they were very common in 
Palestine we may learn from the constant 
allusions made to them in the Sacred Scrip- 
tures. They made their lairs in the thick 
groves which fringed both sides of the river 
Jordan, and were often driven from their 
retreats by the rising of the stream, which 
' overfloweth its banks at the time of har- 
vest.' At such times they were more than 
usually dangerous ; and hence the expression, 
' He shall come up as a lion from the swell- 
ings of Jordan.' Allusions to them in the 
Psalms are frequent and graphic : — ^ My soul 
is among lions;' 'Deliver my soul from the 
lions,' occur several times. 'Like as a lion that 
is greedy of his prey, and as it were a lion's 
whelp lurking in secret places ;' ' The young 
lions roar after their prey, and seek their meat 



222 THE LION. 



from God/ Such are a few out of many in- 
stances where they are mentioned in a way to 
show that the Psahnist was familiar with their 
habits; and doubtless, in his experience as a 
herdsman, and during his long wanderings 
among the mountains, he must often have 
come in contact with them. The lion is 
with all the Jewish writers a symbol of 
strength and majesty; and it is in this sense 
that our Lord is called the 'Lion of the 
tribe of Judah.' " 

"I know some verses about the lion/' 
said Daisy, modestly; ^'but I don't know 
where they are." 

" Say them, my pet," said Aunt Louisa; 
and Daisy repeated : — 

" ' The wolf also shall dwell with the lamb, 
and the leopard shall lie down with the kid ; 
and the calf and the young lion and the fat- 
ling together; and a little child shall lead 
them. And the cow and the bear shall feed ; 
their young ones shall lie down together : 
and the lion shall eat straw like the ox.' " 

"Right," said Miss Louisa, — ''and very 
nicely repeated. The prophet Isaiah uses 
these expressions, intending by this beau- 
tiful figure to represent the perfect peace 



THE LION. 223 



and blessedness of our Saviour's completed 
kingdom, when wars shall cease and all 
violence and wrong shall be done away." 

"I should like to live to see that time/' 
murmured the little girl, half to herself. 

"No doubt you will, my dear child," 
said her aunt, — " though perhaps not in the 
body." 

" Are there more kinds of lions than one, 
aunt ?" asked Richard. 

" That is a disputed point," replied Miss 
"Winston, — " or, rather, it has been so, for it 
seems to be now a well-settled fact that 
the maneless lion of Guzerat is really 
quite a different animal from the great 
African lion." 

" A maneless lion !" repeated Annie. " I 
never heard of such a thing. One can 
almost as easily think of a wingless bird." 

" Your comparison is more apt than you 
imagine, my dear : a bird has actually been 
discovered in New Zealand which possesses 
the merest rudiments of wings, and whose 
covering appears at first sight much more 
like hair than like feathers. It has of 
course no power of flight." 

" I give it up," said Annie, laughing. " A 



224 THE LION. 



wingless bird is certainly more remarkable 
than a maneless lion. Where did you say 
they were found ?" 

"In Guzerat or Goojerat: the name is 
spelt in both ways. Get the atlas, Sidney, and 
look on the west side of the peninsula of 
Hindostan, and you will see the peninsula 
of Gujerat, bounded on the east side by 
the Gulf of Cambay, and on the other by 
the Gulf of Cutch and the great "Western 
Eunn. Do you see Ahmedabad?" 

"Yes, here it is, between two rivers 
which empty into the Gulf of Cambay. 
One is the Mhye, and the other does not 
seem to have any name on the map.'' 

"The other is the Subbermutty; audit 
is upon this that the maneless lion has been 
principally found, though it has been taken 
upon the borders of Cutch. It is curious 
that scarcely any of the natives of the coun- 
try had ever seen or heard of the animals, 
though they were so numerous that Captain 
Smee killed eleven in a month's time. 
Their cattle had often been carried off', but 
they had always attributed their destruction 
to tigers, — which. Captain Smee says, are 
not found in the peninsula. The few herds- 



THE LION. 225 



men who had seen the animal called it the 
camel-tiger, because its colour resembled 
that of the camel." 

" They must be a bright set," said Sidney, 
contemptuously, ''to have such a number 
of great animals among them and never see 
them. One can imagine their overlooking 
a bird, or something of that sort; but a 
Uon !" 

''They are probably neither very keen 
sportsmen nor profound naturalists; and, 
having seen a large animal which carried 
off cattle, they were content to call it a 
tiger and let it go for that, — like your aunt 
Meredith, to whom every species of insect 
is either a bug or a butterfly." 

"How large is this maneless lion?" asked 
Annie. 

" There is not much difference, in that 
respect, between them and their African 
cousins, except that the lion of Gujerat is 
rounder and more bulky in body and has 
shorter legs. The tail is also much shorter. 
A male maneless lion, killed by Captain 
Smee, was eight feet nine inches in 
length, including the tail, and was three 
feet six inches high, weighing when the 



226 THE LION. 



entrails were removed, four hundred and 
ninety pounds. The impression of his paw 
on the sand was six inches across. It has a 
line of long silky hair along the ridge of 
the back-bone, and the under side of the 
neck and inside of the legs is fringed with 
the same. The general colour of the body is 
tawny, sometimes approaching to red, and 
growing white underneath ; the tail is graj;;, 
becoming nearly white at the end, which is 
furnished with a tuft of blackish hair. Their 
appearance is dignified and majestic, and 
they are very courageous, showing great 
boldness even when struck by a ball, stand- 
ing as if to face their pursuers and retreat- 
ing slowly and sullenly. I am not aware 
that any specimens have been brought 
alive either to Europe or to this country." 

''But all Asiatic lions are not maneless?" 
said Sidney. 

" No. Maned lions are found in Hindos- 
tan, Persia and Arabia. Layard found 
many of them represented with crisped 
manes among the wonderful sculptures of 
Nineveh. It is a disputed point whether or 
not the lion of Arabia is a dijSerent species 
from that of Africa, or merely a variety." 



THE LION. 227 



" What is the difference between a species 
and a variety?" asked Richard. 

"A species comprehends several essential 
differences in structure and habits, but a 
variety signifies merely an accidental differ- 
ence in colour or shape, — usually of colour. 
Thus, the domestic cat and the wild-cat of 
England are plainly different species ; but 
there are endless varieties of the former. 
Tame animals are much more subject to 
varieties than wild. The lion of Arabia and 
Persia is usually not so large as that of 
Africa, the mane is not so full, and that and 
the whole body is of a lighter colour. They 
are said to be ordinarily less brave; but 
Bishop Heber says, on the authority of his 
friend Mr. Boulderson, that no animal can 
be more courageous than the lion of India. 
When it sees its enemj^ approaching, it 
springs out to meet him open-mouthed, like 
the boldest of all animals,— a mastiff' dog, — 
and dies fighting to the last. Sometimes it 
springs directly upon the elephant's head, 
and, by the immense weight and muscular 
power of his fore-quarters, drags him fairly 
to the ground." 

"Now for Africa!" said Sidney, settling 



228 THE LION. 



himself in his chair, as if iu expectation of 
a great treat. 

'' Sidney is expecting some good hunting- 
stories," said Annie, laughing. " I believe 
he cai^es more for them than for any thing 
else." 

''Not more than for any thing else," said 
Sidney; "but I must confess I do like hunt- 
ing-stories, when they are not too bloody ; 
and I do not see that there is any harm in 
it, either." 

" Certainly not," replied Miss Winston. 
" There is no more harm in hunting-stories 
than in any other tales of adventure ; and I 
think them much more innocent than details 
of battles and sieges, with all their horrors 
and cruelties." 

"But it does not follow that a man is 
cruel because he likes to hunt: does it, 
aunt?" 

" A hunter may be cruel, no doubt," said 
Miss Winston; "but it does not follow that 
he must be. Still, I cannot understand the 
pleasure men and boys seem to take in 
shooting all sorts of harmless creatures, 
— such as robins, for instance." 

"You don't call that hunting, do you?" 



THE LION. 229 



said Richard, in a tone of profound contempt. 
" I guess you would not catch Long John or 
Erastus Waterman shooting a bluebird. I 
remember, when I w^as quite a little boy, 
hearing John scolding a fellow who had 
brought away a nest of young squirrels, too 
young to eat their food or to be raised. I said 
to him afterwards, ' But I have seen you bring 
in twenty or thirty squirrels at a time for 
sale.' ^ Ah, yes,' he said, 'but that's different. 
Nobody disputes but what men have a right 
to eat such creatures. When a squirrel is 
dead he is dead; and when J shoot him he 
don't know what hurts him.' " 

''And that's true," said Sidney. ''But 
now for our African lions." 

" The African lion," said Miss Winston, 
"is spread over the whole continent, from 
north to south and from east to w^est; but 
the central and southern parts seem to be 
his peculiar haunts. There he finds springs 
and streams of water to allay his thirst, 
coverts in which to repose during the heat of 
the day, and, above all, an unlimited supply 
of food in the countless herds of zebras and 
quaggas, of antelopes, of all sorts of elands, 
springboks and oryx, which rove over those 

20 



230 THE LION. 



immense plains, not to mention the stately 
and beautiful girafies, and the young of the 
elephant, hippopotamus and rhinoceros. 
Thousands and thousands of these animals 
may sometimes be seen from some eminence, 
scattered over the country in close and 
friendly neighbourhood. The antelopes and 
zebras eat the grass of the plains ; the girafies 
crop the tops of the acacia or camel-thorn 
trees ; the lechees or water-bucks seek the 
rivers and marshes, where, if you should 
follow them, you might chance to stumble 
upon a white rhinoceros, hiding his un- 
gainly bulk in the long grass, rising from 
the bottom of the river, where he has been 
walking at his* ease till the want of air 
forced him to come to the surface to take a 
long breath. A herd of springboks is dis- 
turbed, and the beautiful animals move otF 
in magnificent bounds, rising every time 
higher than a tall man's head and clearing 
twelve or fifteen feet at a leap. A dozen or 
more of elephants are standing lazily under 
a shade, suckling their quaint little calves 
or fanning themselves with boughs. Pre- 
sently the cracking of whips, the creaking 
of wheels and the shouts of drivers are 



THE LION. 231 



heard, and a train, consisting of two or three 
immense wagons drawn by long teams of 
oxen, a small herd of cattle, and perhaps 
two or three horsemen, come slowly into 
sight round the corner of a projecting rock. 
It is the caravan of some enterprising 
man who is taking out goods to trade with 
the natives for ivory, gems and skins, in- 
tending at the same time to lay down the 
course of rivers and determine the latitude 
and longitude of mountains, rivers and lakes. 
A fitting place selected, the camp is soon 
made. There are no tents to be pitched; 
for the white men will sleep in their wagons, 
and the natives who accompany them care 
nothing for shelter. Great fires are made, 
the cattle and horses unyoked, watered and 
carefully secured : a springbok or eland has 
been shot in the course of the afternoon, 
and there is fresh meat enough to satisfy 
the appetites even of the Hottentots, whose 
stomachs, according to their own proverb, 
have no bottoms. The naturalist of the 
party is on the alert, feasting his eyes upon 
the sight of so many beautiful and novel 
forms, at the same time not omitting to 
examine carefully the ground and the trunks 



232 THE LION. 



and leaves of the trees for insects. But all 
the party are heartily weary with their long 
march in the burning sun ; and even the 
naturalist is disposed to rest. The Hotten- 
tots are still stuffing themselves over the 
body of the eland ; but the white men are 
soon asleep, after looking carefully to their 
arms, loosening their knives in the sheaths 
and putting new caps on their rifles and 
revolvers. The replenished fire blazes 
brightly; the sky is beautifully clear and 
promises a quiet night and a fine day to- 
morrow. Finally the Hottentots have had 
enough, or there is no more to be had; and 
every thing is quiet in the little camp ex- 
cept the sentries, whose business it is to 
keep up the fires and maintain a strict 
watch." 

''But where is the lion all this time?'' 
asked Annie. 

" He is not far off, and, we may be sure, 
has informed himself of all the movements 
of the new-comers; but he loves darkness 
rather than light, and does not care to stir 
at present. At last the half-moon goes 
down, and the lion ventures forth and goes 
to the river to drink. He lies down flat, 



THE LION. 233 



and drinks at his leisure, lapping like a cat, 
with a noise which may be heard at the dis- 
tance of a hundred yards, and which is heard 
by the sentinels in the camp, who heap fresh 
fuel on their fire and draw closer together, 
while they listen awe-struck to the low, hol- 
low and deep-drawn sighing moans which, 
without being loud, seem to fill the whole 
air. The lion is calling his mate, who finally 
joins him and in her turn lies down to 
drink. There is so much game in the 
neighbourhood that the travellers hope to 
escape without an attack ; but the lion is 
savage and capricious, and there is no telling 
what he may do. So they look once more to 
their arms, and wait rather anxiously for 
the result. Presently the air resounds with 
the tremendous roar, and the ground shakes 
with tKe spring of the lion ; and then echoes 
the clatter of innumerable hoofs, as the 
roused and frightened herds fly from their 
deadly foe. The oxen stamp and bellow, 
the horses plunge, strain at their bridles 
and are hardly restrained by the hands and 
voices of their masters from rushing on cer- 
tain death. The lion has seized his prey ; 
and, unless there be a company of them, 

20* 



234 THE LION. 



the travellers feel tolerably safe for the rest 
of the night, knowing that he will not exert 
himself to kill more than he wants for the 
time-being. The watch is changed, the 
travellers retire to their wagons, and all is 
quiet once more." 

Sidney looked rather disappointed. "I 
thought you meant to make the lions attack 
the travellers." 

^' So I can if I please, for that is an event 
which very often happens ; but, instead of 
drawing upon my imagination and my ge- 
neral recollection, I will read you a true 
story, told by a celebrated African traveller, 
Mr. Gordon Gumming. They had been a 
long time upon the road, and had encamped, 
much as our travellers have done. 

" 'All had retired to rest,' says Mr. Gum- 
ming, 'when suddenly the appalling and 
murderous roar of an angry and blood- 
thirsty lion burst upon my ear within a few 
yards of us, followed by the shrieking of the 
Hottentots. Again and again the murder- 
ous roar of attack was repeated. We heard 
John and Ruyter shout, " The lion ! the 
lion !" Still, for a moment w^e thought he 
was only chasing one of the dogs round 



THE LION. 235 



the herd ; but the next instaut John Stofulus 
rushed into the midst of us, almost speech- 
less from fear, his eyes bursting from their 
sockets, and shrieked, " The lion ! the lion ! 
He has got Hendrick ! He dragg.ed him 
away from the fire beside me. I struck him 
with the burning brands upon his head; but 
he wouldn't let go his hold. Hendrick is 
dead ! oh, Hendrick is dead ! Let us take 
fire and seek him." The rest of the people 
ran about moaning and yelling as if they 
were mad. I was angry with them for their 
folly, and told them that if they did not 
stand still and keep quiet the lion would 
have another of us, and that very likely 
there was a troop of them. I ordered the 
dogs, which were nearly all fresh, to be 
made loose, and the fire to be increased as 
much as could be. I then shouted Hend- 
rick's name ; but all was still. I then told 
my men that Hendrick was dead, and that 
a regiment of soldiers could not help him, 
and, hunting the dogs forward, I had every 
thing brought within my cattle-kraal, when 
we lighted our fires and closed the entrance 
as well as we could. It appeared that when 
the unfortunate Hendrick rose to drive in 



236 THE LION. 



the ox, the lion had watched him to the fire- 
side, and he had hardly lain down when 
the brute sprang upon him and Ruyter, (for 
both lay under one blanket,) and, roaring as 
he lay, grappled him with his fearful claws, 
and kept biting him on the breast and 
shoulder, all the time feeling for his neck, 
which having got hold of, he at once dragged 
him away backwards round the bush into 
the dense shade. As the lion lay on the 
unfortunate man he cried, faintly, ''Help me ! 
oh, men, help me!" after which the fearful 
beast got hold of his neck, and then all was 
still.' " 

" What a horrid story !" exclaimed Annie, 
shuddering. ''I do hope you are satisfied, 
Sidney?" 

''I think it was too bad!" said Daisy, 
half crying. " They might have helped 
him." 

''How could they?" asked Richard. 
"They did every thing that was possible. 
You heard how one of them struck him 
over the head with the burning brands, 
which one would think might have made 
him let go if any thing would, for all wild 
animals are afraid of fire. But I did not 



THE LION, 237 



suppose a lion would take so mucli trouble 
to attack a man when there were cattle 
which he might have got with much less 
difficulty." 

" It is said that the lion, like the tiger, 
sometimes acquires such a taste for human 
flesh that he will run any risk to obtain it; 
but ordinarily he prefers to prey upon quad- 
rupeds. In the midst of such abundance, 
he is hardly ever enough in want to drive 
him out to hunt in the daytime ; but when 
this is the case he is almost always danger- 
ous. Dr. Livingstone and his party, how- 
ever, once met one face to face in a narrow 
gorge, where there was no room either to 
pass or to turn out. The doctor looked at 
the lion, and the lion looked at the doctor: 
the embarrassment appeared to be mutual. 
The man was unwilling to retreat, for he 
felt certain that the creature would spring 
upon him the moment his back was turned, 
and he was equally unwilling to fire, for his 
gun was the only one in the company: it 
might miss fire, or he might miss his aim, 
and then their condition would be desperate. 
The lion on his part seemed equally at a 
loss what course to pursue. At last the 



238 THE LION. 



doctor fixed his eyes steadfastly on those 
of the lion, and uttered the words 'Be- 
gone!* in an authoritative tone, at the 
same time making with his hand and 
stick a gesture of dismissal. The lion re- 
turned him a dignified glance, and then, 
with a low growl, walked away with slow 
and majestic steps, leaving the pass clear for 
the travellers." 

'' Don't you think that sounds like rather 
a large story. Aunt Louisa?" asked Richard, 
somewhat incredulousl3\ 

^'iSTot at all, my dear. Such things have 
happened repeatedly. The boers, or de- 
scendants of Dutch colonists in South 
Africa, frequently set out alone on horse- 
back to hunt the lion, confident in the good 
training of their horses, the excellence of 
their rifles and their own courage and un- 
erring skill as marksmen. One of them, 
Diedrich Miiller by name, when returning 
from such an expedition, encountered a lion, 
which seemed determined not to let him 
pass without a difficult3^ Diedrich at once 
dismounted, and, confident of his aim, le- 
velled his rifle at the forehead of the beast: 
but, at the critical moment, the horse, pulling 



THE LION. . 239 



at his bridle, which was fastened to the hun- 
ter's arm, caused him to miss his aim. The 
lion at once bounded forward, but stopped 
a few paces in front of Diedrich, who was 
now quite defenceless, his gun discharged 
and his horse running off. The man and 
the beast stood looking one another in the 
face for a few minutes, when the lion moved 
as if to go away. Diedrich began to reload 
his rifle ; but at the noise he made the lion 
growled and returned to his former position. 
The hunter paused, and the lion again 
walked off, looking round and growling 
angrily, when the boer proceeded to ram 
down his bullet : this was repeated till the 
animal had got to some distance, when he 
quickened his steps and bounded off." 

"I should not like to have been in his 
place when his gun missed fire," said Sidney, 
— " nor in his horse's either, unless he was 
a very uncommonly good-natured man." 

"Professor Lichtenstein tells a story," 
continued Miss Winston, "which illustrates 
not only the capricious temper of the lion, 
but the great coolness and courage of these 
men, who are as it were brought up among 
them. 



240 THE LION. 



" ^ While we were passing near the Rich 
River Gate, and while our oxen were grazing, 
Van Wj'Ck the colonist related to me the 
following interesting circumstance. ''It is 
now," he said, "nearly two years since, in 
the very place where we now stand, I ventured 
to take one of the most daring shots that was 
ever hazarded. My wife was seated in the 
house near the door, my children were play- 
ing about her, and I was without, near the 
door, busied in doing something to a wagon, 
when, though it was mid-day, an enormous 
lion appeared, came up and quietly laid 
himself down in the shade upon the very 
threshold of the door. My wife, either 
frozen with fear or aware of the danger at- 
tending any attempt to fly, remained mo- 
tionless in her place, while the children 
took refuge in her lap. The cry uttered bj^ 
them attracted my attention, and I hastened 
towards the door; but my astonishment may 
well be conceived when I found the en- 
trance to it barred in such a manner. Al- 
though the animal had not seen me, yet, 
unarmed as I was, escape seemed impossible. 
I glided gently, scarcely knowing what I 
meant to da, to the side of the house, up to 



THE LION. 241 



the window of tlie chamber, where I knew 
my loaded gun was standing. By a most 
happy chance, I had set it into the corner 
close by the window, so that I could reach 
it with my hand, for, as you may perceive, 
the opening is quite too small for me to 
have got in ; and, still more fortunately, the 
door of the room was open, so that I could 
see the whole danger of the scene. The 
lion was beginning to move, perhaps with 
the intention of making a spring/ There 
was no longer any time to think. I called 
softly to the mother not to be alarmed, and, 
invoking the name of the Lord, fired my 
piece. The ball passed directly over the 
hair of my little boy's head and lodged in 
the forehead of the lion, immediately above 
his eyes, which shot forth as it were sparks 
of fire, and stretched him on the ground, 
so that he never stirred more.'' ' " 

The children drew a long breath as they 
heard the conclusion. "He was a bold fel- 
low, as well as a cool one," observed Rich- 
ard. "If the little fellow had stirred, the 
father would have shot him instead of the 
lion; and yet I don't see w^hat else he could 
have done." 

21 



242 THE LION. 



^' It is one of the many cases in which 
the boldest course is the best," said Miss 
Winston. ''I think the woman showed 
considerable strength, too ; for if she had 
screamed and tried to run, as most people 
would have done, it would have been all 
over with her." 

^'Yes, she showed good spunk," said 
Sidney, approvingly. 

•'Aunt," asked Annie, " don't you think 
all these stories serve to show that the lion 
is not so ferocious as many other beasts of 
prey? It seems as if he never killed any 
thing unless when he wanted to eat it." 

"I am inclined to think you are right, 
Annie; but perhaps some of this apparent 
magnanimity may be set down to the ac- 
count of his laziness, for lazy he undeniably 
is, with all his strength, — which seems to ex- 
ceed that of any known animal. A man is 
no more in his jaws than a mouse in those of 
a cat. He is able to drag off a heavy ox ; and 
any smaller animal gives him no trouble 
whatever. A lion, having carried oft' a 
young heifer, was followed by his tracks, for 
fully four hours, by a party on horseback ; 
and through the whole distance the carcass of 



THE LION. 243 



the animal was only once or twice disco- 
vered to have touched the ground. Another 
seized a heifer in his mouth ; and though the 
legs dragged on the ground, yet he seemed 
to carry her off with the same ease that a 
cat does a rat. He also leaped a broad 
dyke with her without the least difficulty."' 

^'I wonder/' remarked Annie, ^' that 
when the lion is so strong he should be 
contented to live in such a narrow cage 
without even trying to get out. I should 
think it would be easy enough for him to set 
himself at liberty if he pleased." 

" You must remember that the lions we 
see in the menageries are almost universally 
either born in captivity or taken while very 
young and brought up in the same narrow 
limits. Thus they never acquire a know- 
ledge of their full strength ; and very pro- 
bably their muscles are not so fully deve- 
loped as those of their wild race, who 
have to depend upon their own exertions 
for a supply of food." 

" I suppose every thing must fly before 
them in the deserts where they live?" said 
Sidney. 

"Not invariably,'' replied Miss Winston. 



244 THE LION. 



" The rhinoceros sometimes opposes them 
with great success when they venture to 
attack him, — which is not often; and Dr. 
Livingstone witnessed a conflict between a 
lion and an oryx (a large and splendid 
species of antelope) where the latter not 
only came oS conqueror but actually killed 
his antagonist. The lion was crouched on 
a small rocky eminence, higher than his ad- 
versary, who stood at bay about twenty 
yards off, calm and collected, and presenting 
his beautiful head and sharp swordlike 
horns to the enemy. Several times the 
lion made a circuit, endeavouring to take 
the antelope in flank; but in vain, for he 
always found the horns opposed to him. At 
last, as if to bring matters to an issue, the 
oryx made a feint of retiring, when the lion 
instantly sprung and was received on his 
horns, which inflicted a severe wound. 
Three several times he repeated his attack, 
each time receiving a terrible hurt ; and at 
the last spring the whole length of the horn 
was buried in his shoulder. He tottered 
and fell dead. The oryx slowly withdrew 
his horn, and, after a triumphant caper above 
his fallen adversary, trotted ofil The Afri- 



THE LION. 245 



cans assured Dr. Livingstone that such com- 
bats were not unfrequent, and that the victory 
almost always remained on the side of the 
oryx." 

"Is it true, aunt, that the jackal is the 
lion's provider ? — that he finds his prey for 
him and afterwards takes his share ?" asked 
Sidney. "I have read such a story some- 
where." 

"It was believed to be so for many years; 
but the case seems to be exactly the con- 
trary. It is the lion who provides for the 
jackals and hyenas, who follow him in 
troops in order to take what he has left. It 
was also believed that the inferior animals 
would not venture to approach till the 
monarch had finished his meal ; but recent 
travellers appear to have disproved this also ; 
and, if we may credit a story Mr. Gordon 
Gumming tells, they do not even treat him 
with decent civility. 

■" Mr. Gumming, it seems, had shot three 
rhinoceroses near a fountain of water, and 
came after twilight, intending to spend the 
night near at hand and watch for lions, ac- 
companied by his Hottentot servant. 

" ^On reaching the water,' he goes on to 



246 THE LION. 



saj^, 'I looked towards the carcass of the 
rhinoceros, and, to my astonishment, beheld 
the ground alive with large creatures, as 
though a drove of zebras were approaching 
the water. Kleinboy remarked to me that 
a drove of zebras were standing on the 
height. I answered, ''yes;" but I knew 
very well that zebras would not be caper- 
ing round the carcass of a rhinoceros. I 
quickly arranged my blankets, pillows, and 
guns in the hole, and lay down to feast my 
eyes upon the interesting sight before me. 
It was bright moonlight, — as clear as I could 
wish. There were six large lions, about 
twelve or fifteen hyenas, and from twenty to 
thirty jackals, feasting on and around the 
carcasses of the three rhinoceroses. The lions 
feasted peaceably ; but the hyenas and jackals 
fought over every mouthful, and chased 
one another round and round the carcass, 
laughing, screaming, chattering and howl- 
ing without any intermission. The hyenas 
did not seem afraid of the lions, though they 
always gave way before them ; for I observed 
that they followed them in the most disre- 
spectful manner, and stood laughing, one or 
two on each side, when any of the lions 



THE LION. 247 



came after their comrades to examine pieces 
of skin or bones which they were dragging 
away.' '' 

"That is another mistake of mine/' said 
Sidney. "I always thought the lion would 
eat nothing but what he killed himself." 

" Yes : I know that was one of the stories. 
If you should believe all that the old writers 
said of him, you would think him endowed 
with almost superhuman virtues. It was 
said that he would never attack a child or 
a young virgin, that he never ate any thing 
which was in the least putrid or defiled in 
any way, that he protected the inferior ani- 
mals from their tyrants, — and much more to 
the same purpose. It seems to be true that 
they are capable of great affection and gra- 
titude ; and the old story of Androcles and 
the lion though very marvellous is not alto- 
gether impossible." 

"What was that?" asked Eichard. "I 
do not know that I ever heard it.'* 

"Androcles was a slave who in the time 
of the Romian empire ran away from his 
master and escaped to the forest, where he 
w^andered about in great distress till he 
found a cave, in which he took refuge and 



248 THE LION. 



where he finally fell asleep. When he 
opened his eyes he gave himself up for lost; 
for a large lion was sitting before him and 
earnestly regarding him. He was, how- 
ever, a resolute man ; and, as he gathered 
his senses together, he perceived that the 
lion did not seem disposed to attack him, 
but moaned and held up one of his paws, as 
though in great pain. Despair gave him cou- 
rage : he took the lion's foot in his lap ; and, 
after a short examination, he found that a 
thorn had penetrated the ball, causing great 
pain and inflammation. He extracted it and 
bound up the foot with moist leaves, much 
to the joy of the poor animal, which signi- 
fied his delight by fawning upon and caress- 
ing his benefactor. Androcles remained 
in the cave a long time, subsisting upon 
wild fruits and the game which the lion 
brought him. At last, in some of his 
wanderings, he was seized by a band of sol- 
diers and carried back to the city, where, 
after a long confinement, he was sentenced 
to be devoured by wild beasts for the 
amusement of the populace. He was fas- 
tened to a stake in the centre of the area, 
and a very large and fierce lion, lately 



THE LION. 249 



taken from the woods, was let loose. The 
creature sprang fiercely towards him ; but, as 
soon as he came near, his whole behaviour 
changed : he sprang upon Androcles, covered 
him with the most extravagant caresses, 
and cried and howled for joy like a dog 
which meets his master after a long absence ; 
w^hile the man, on his part, was not slow to 
recognise his friend and benefactor. The 
story was told : the fickle feelings of the 
spectators were moved, and Androcles was 
at once set at liberty and presented with 
the lion which had shown so much affection 
for him. 

"But we must bring our lion-stories to a 
close, as we have already made a very long 
evening of it. Are there any questions to 
be proposed ?" 

"You have not said any thing about the 
cubs," said Sidney. 

" The lioness usually produces from two 
to four cubs at a birth, which are born 
blind. They are then fat and round like 
young puppies, and are brindled and ob- 
scurely spotted like young tigers. They 
mew like cats and^ are very playful. The 
mane begins to appear at the end of twelve 



250 THE LION. 



months; and at the age of eighteen months 
they begin to roar. The lioness becomes very 
savage when she has cubs, attacking with 
the greatest fury every creature that ap- 
proaches her retreat. She is said to retain 
the same disposition in captivity; but one 
which I saw was as gentle as an old cat, 
— though she evidently preferred that her 
darlings should not be meddled with. She 
made no resistance when the keeper took 
one out and gave it to me to hold, though 
she watched my movements with great 
solicitude, rubbing her great head coaxingly 
ao-ainst his hand and seemincr much relieved 
when she had it safely back. It was as 
large as a good fat New^foundland puppy ; 
and I shall never forget the soft, warm feel- 
ing of its coat against my bare arms. I 
was a very little girl then ; and I thought I 
should like to keep it for a pet." 

''Is there more than one variety of lions 
in Africa?" asked Annie. 

"The colonists reckon two, the yellow 
and the brown, one of which is much darker 
than the other; and there seems to be a 
black-maned variety, which is the most for- 
midable of all. There has certainly been a 



THE LIOX. 251 



great variety in the colour of different indi- 
viduals which I have seen ; but it may have 
been owing to age. Now, as we have done 
with our cats, you may, if you please, Rich- 
ard, go over the different characteristics of 
the' genus Felis, that they may be clearly 
fixed in our minds." 

"Retractile claws,— that is, claws which 
may be drawn back into a sheath ; smooth 
fur, sometimes plain, but oftener spotted or 
striped; eyes with oval-shaped pupils and 
very sensitive, which give them the power 
of seeing in the dark, as it is called ; very 
strong muscles ; a rough tongue armed with 

horny points turned backwards; and 1 

believe that is all." 

" You have forgotten one of the most im- 
portant characteristics," said Miss Winston. 
" "What is it, Annie ?" 

"He has not said any thing about the 
teeth," replied Annie. 

" You may give an account of them, if 
you please. Tell the number of each 

kind." 

" Six incisors, or cutting-teeth, above and 
below, in the front of the mouth," said 
Amiie; " four canines,— two above -and two 



.252 THE LION. 



below, — which are the long teeth you see 
upon each side of the incisors ; and eight 
grinding-teeth, or molars, in the upper jaw 
and six in the lower, — ^making thirty in all/' 

" Take your slate and write down the 
dental formula, as I showed you," said Miss 
"Winston. 

Annie did so, and, after a little considera- 
tion, handed it to her aunt. It read — ''In- 
cisors, I; Canines, {:{; Molars, |:|.'' 

" Quite right," said Miss Winston. ''Try 
to keep this in mind, for it is very im- 
portant. All the other parts of the skeleton 
invariably , correspond in some manner to 
the character of the teeth ; and it is by ob- 
serving their agreement that naturalists are 
able to determine the general form and 
habits of an animal, and, as it were, re- 
construct it, from a single tooth." 




The Wolf. 



p. 253. 



PUTTING THE HOUSE TO UIGHTS. 253 



CHAPTER VII. 

THE WOLVES. 

On Friday at sunset the rain cleared off 
before a brisk wind, and a beautiful moon- 
light evening was succeeded by a fine and 
pleasant day. On Saturdaj^ the children 
had no tasks except their Sunday-school 
lessons ; but the girls had certain matters 
of sewing to attend to: even Daisy was 
learning to mend the little holes in her little 
stockings very nicely ; and Annie took 
lessons in baking of her aunt, who was very 
skilful in such matters. Annie could make 
a plain cake as well as any one, and was 
rapidly progressing in other branches of the 
very necessary art of cooking. By eleven 
o'clock, however, all these aftairs were dis- 
posed of, and the children were at liberty 
to do what they pleased with their time. It 
pleased them to put into complete order 

22 



254 PUTTING THE HOUSE TO RIGHTS. 



their little log house, which had lately been 
rather neglected : the door was off one 
hinge, a pane of glass was broken out of 
the window, and the roof was out of repair, 
so that the rain came through at every 
shower. Both the boys were very expert 
in the use of carpenters' tools ; and Sidney 
could set glass as well as any glazier. New 
shingles there were in abundance; and in a 
box in the garret devoted to such odds and 
ends Eichard found a pair of old brass 
hinges, which, with a little cleaning and 
fixing, formed an admirable substitute for 
the bits of leather which had formerly an- 
swered the purpose. A broad flat stone 
was found and placed before the door, 
the ground around carefully cleaned and 
smoothed, and by the time the girls came 
out there was a decided improvement in 
the appearance of things. 

'' I wonder if we cannot do something to 
the walls to make them look better?" said 
Annie. 

^'Whitewash them," suggested Sidney. 
"But there is no lime about; and I don't 
think that would hide the stains, either. 
But we might paper them/ 



PAPERING THE HOUSE. 



" That would cost too much, if we had to 
buy the paper," said Annie; '^and I don't 
think there is any to spare about the house." 

'' But with newspapers, Annie ! There 
are hundreds of old ones up in the garret ; 
and I dare say aunt will let us have them." 

"And Jane would make us the paste," 
said Annie, "and the rest we could do our- 
selves. But what about the roof?" 

" Oh, that may stay as it is," replied Rich- 
ard. "The new^ shingles look very clean 
and nice, and we can make believe it is in 
the Gothic style, like the new church. Let 
us go and ask aunt." 

Aunt thought it a very good plan, and 
told Annie where to find a large pile of pic- 
torial papers and old magazines, which she 
thought would be very ornamental. Jane 
was ready to do her part; and, to crown their 
delight, Kate Crediton appeared in the 
midst of their operations. Kate was a host 
in herself when there was any work to be 
done : her pretty new muslin dress was 
quickly exchanged for an old calico wrapper 
of Annie's, and the work seemed to go on 
twice as fast and twice as well with her 
active assistance. By four o'clock it was 



256 FURNISHING THE HOUSE. 



all done, the windows and floor nicely 
w^ashed; and, while they were waiting for it 
to dry, Annie proposed that they should 
make another expedition to the garret and 
see what furniture they could find to add to 
the attractions of the mansion. They found 
Miss "Winston there before them. She had 
selected a small old-fashioned table, with 
one of its legs somewhat injured, a couple 
of chairs, and a small flat-topped trunk, and 
was now engaged in looking for something 
in a large chest. 

^'Ihave been thinking," said she, ^'that 
this table would do nicely for your house. 
It is not very stylish, to-be-sure ; but you can 
cover it with a cloth, and some day Richard 
can get some varnish and put it in order. 
The chairs will do very well, and this trunk 
will make a nice lounge if it is covered and 
cushioned. You will want some curtains ; 
and here is a pair of chintz ones, which, 
though somewhat faded and shrunken, w^ill 
be long enough for your short windows. 
You may, if you please, set your table and 
have your tea there instead of in the house.'* 

This project was received with great ap- 
plause, and all hands were at once set to 



FURNISHING THE HOUSE. 257 



work to carry it into effect. The boys 
brought down the furniture and dusted it ; 
the girls hung the window-curtain s, and 
manufactured a cushion for the lounge of 
an old comforter folded to the right size 
and covered with chintz, which had, to-be- 
sure, seen some service, but was still whole 
and pretty, "l^ew, gaudy calico," Kate re- 
marked, ^' would be out of keeping with the 
rest of the furniture." When the arrange- 
ments were all completed, the table covered 
with a white cloth and neatly set out with 
cakes, bread and butter, strawberries and 
cream, and Daisy's own silver pitcher (that 
her great-aunt left her) filled with new niilk, 
and all ornamented with abundance of 
flowers, Annie declared she had never seen 
a prettier tea-table. The only guests beside 
themselves were Sport and the kitten, now 
the best of friends, who had interested them- 
selves very much in all that was going on, 
and who now came in for a share of the en- 
tertainment. Bruno had also been invited; 
but he declined, preferring to go to mill 
with John and the horses. 

They were' all in great glee, talking, eat- 
ing and feeding the dog and cat, when sud- 

22^ 



258 A SURPRISE. 



denly Sport started up, and rushed out with 
a furious growl, which presently changed 
into something like a whine of fear. 

""What ails the dog?" said Richard, 
rising ; but before he could reach the door 
it was darkened by a man's shadow, and a 
head made itself visible. 

" How d'j^e do, young folks ?" said Erastus 
Waterman, presenting his long figure more 
full}' to view: "I've brought a kitten to 
show you." And as he spoke he threw down 
from his shoulders a large animal which he 
had been carrying. " There ! a'n't that a 
pretty kitten?" he said to Daisy. "You 
never saw such a big cat as that, did you, 
Dolly?" 

"What is it?" asked Daisy, half fright- 
ened, and shrinking back. "A bear !" 

"A bear, indeed!" said Eichard. "You 
never saw a bear of that colour, did you ? 
I do believe it is a panther." 

" That's so, Dick. I expect it is the very 
one you heard the other day at the spring. 
I thought j^ou'd like to see him : so I brought 
him here first. A'n't he a beauty?" he con- 
tinued, turning to Daisy. "See how soft 



A SURPRISE. 259 



his paw is ! Oh, you needn't be afraid: he's 
as dead as a critter can be." 

Thus encouraged, Daisy ventured to 
stroke the head of the panther, and finally 
to examine his claws, and admire the size 
of his strong paws, which she could hardly 
span with her little fingers. 

"Poor pussy!" she said, pitifully, as the 
boys were eagerly asking all the particulars 
of the hunt. ''How lonely his poor mate 
will be ! I wish things did not have to be 
killed, Erastus." 

The old man smiled and stroked her head. 
" Sometimes I've wished so too, Dolly ; but 
there don't seem to be any help for it. If 
we didn't kill the wild critters they would 
kill us, you know. It seems to be a kind of 
law^ of natur' ; and I suppose it must be all 
right, or it wouldn't be so. Such little 
Dollies as you are the best oft', that don't 
need to hurt any thing, but have friends to 
take care of them and teach them to be 
steady and useful folks. What a nice little 
house you have got here!" he continued, 
looking around : '' all as neat as a new pin. 
I expect you are going to be a first-rate 
housekeeper, Annie." 



260 A WELCOME GUEST. 



'' Come in and drink tea with ns, Erastus/* 
said Annie. ''I want j^ou to have some of 
my cake that I made myself." 

''Why, I don't know. I a'n't fixed up 
for company exactly." 

''Never mind," said Richard. "We like 
you better as you are; and we want you to 
tell us some stories. You haven't told us 
any this long time." 

The old man smiled and suffered himself 
to be persuaded. lie was very fond of chil- 
dren, and especially of our young friends at 
The Meadows, to whom he was always a 
welcome guest. Annie drew forward the 
great chair for him, and Daisy was soon on 
his knee, anxious to help him to every thing 
on the table and to hear all about a young 
crow which w^as being tamed for her. 
Sidney had run off' to the house to call his 
grandfather and aunt. 

"Look at Kitty!" said Kate, laughing. 
"She doesn't seem to admire her cousin 
much." In fact, Kitty, who had retired to the 
roof at the first bustle of the panther's arrival, 
was now regarding it at a respectful distance 
with immense disfavour, her back being up, 
and her tail magnified to a wonderful size. 



A BRAVE WOMAN. 261 



She seemed doubtful whether she should 
not attack the stranger. At last, seeing 
that her enemy did not move, she ventured 
to approach a little nearer, and finally com- 
menced a very minute and interested exami- 
nation of the body. 

" She's a pretty cat, and a smart one, too,'' 
said Erastus, — ^'though she can't compare to 
my Dick for size. But talking about know- 
ing how to shoot, Annie ; I heard not long 
ago of a case in which it turned out a very 
good thing even for a woman to be able to 
handle a gun. There was a man living up 
in the Black Eiver country, quite away from 
any neighbours, who had occasion to go 
away for two or three days and leave his 
wife alone with her children, the oldest of 
whom was a boy about eight years old..* 
They lived in a new frame house, which was 
not finished : it was not closed up at the 
bottom ; the floor was only loose planks, 
and there was a hollow under it, where he 
meant to have a cellar some day. Well, it 
was just about nightfall: the woman had 
got her chores done up, and was thinking 
of putting the young ones to bed, when her 
eldest boy, who had been at the door for 



262 A BRAVE WOMAN. 



somethiDg, came running in, and says, ^Mo- 
ther,' says he, 'there's ever so many wolves 
down by the barn, in the edge of the woods. 
I heard them and saw them as plain as 
could be.' 'Hush!' says she, going to the 
door to listen. Sure enough she heard 
'em; and presently — though it was getting 
pretty dark — she saw a wolf come to the 
ed2:e of the clearino'. He looked towards 
the house, and then threw up his head and 
gave one long howl, — a kind of signal-cry. 
She stepped in quick enough, shut and 
barred the door, and fastened the windows 
as well as she could by piling things against 
'em. Then she made up a rousing fire; 
but she hadn't much wood in the house, and 
didn't dare go out for more, lest the wolves 
should come upon her." 

''What was the fire for?" asked Daisy. 

" To scare them," replied Erastus. "All 
wild animals are afraid of fire. She was 
very much frightened; for she knew the 
w^olves w^ould never be so bold if they were 
not almost starved, and she was afraid they 
might break in, in spite of her. Presently 
she heard something scratching like a dog ; 
and, looking down through the cracks of the 



A BEAVE WOMAN. 263 



floor, there, sure enough, she saw the shining 
eyes and ugly head of a woh^. She had sent 
the children up-stairs before, — for there was 
an upper chamber to the house, a kind of 
garret, — and she soon followed them quick 
enough, only stopping to take down her 
husband's gun, which hung ready loaded, 
with his powder-horn and shot-bag, on some 
hooks in the room. She had just got up 
the ladder, which wasn't very high, as the 
wolf forced up one of the planks and stuck 
his head through. She pushed the young 
ones back, and kneeled down by the top of 
the ladder, steadying the gun on something; 
and, just as he was trying to get his fore- 
paws up on the floor, she fired and shot him 
through the head. He gave one yell and 
dropped down dead. The noise of the gun 
and all scared the others, so that they re- 
treated to the edge of the woods and never 
come near the house again all night, .though 
they kept up a tremendous howling, and 
now and then one or two would come out 
into the moonlight and look towards the 
house, as if trying to get up their courage 
for another attack. I suppose it was a very 
long night to the mother and her children, 



264 THE WOLF. 



poor things ! but morning came at last, just 
as it always does after the longest night, 
and the wolves disappeared. The neigh- 
bours got up a hunt the next day and killed 
several of them ; and it turned out that there 
was a large pack." 

^'I didn't know that wolves had so much 
courage," observed Kate. "I thought they 
were very cowardly creatures." 

" They are so in general, unless they are 
very hungry or there are a grea^t many to- 
gether; but when there is a pack of them 
they get very bold au^ savage, and are then 
as dangerous as any wild beast at all. When 
this country w^as new, I knew of several 
people, on horseback and in sleighs, who 
were chased bj^ them and narrowly escaped 
with their lives. A wolf runs very fast, 
with a kind of long gallop, which he can 
keep up hours at a time, w^ithout being tired 
out ; and it takes a very good horse to escape 
them when their blood is up." 

''I recollect a frightful story about a man 
being chased by w^olves in Sweden," said 
Richard. 

''Don't tell it, if it is too horrid !" inter- 
rupted Annie. ''Oh, I know what you 



ADVENTURE WITH A WOLF. 265 



mean, Dick, — about the children. Don't 
tell that!" But the others were anxious to 
hear it, and Annie withdrew her opposition, 
only saying, "I don't more than half be- 
lieve it, anyway." 

"A man was sent, in the dead of winter, 
from one town to another in the North of 
Sweden, to carry some children. There 
were three of them, — orphans ; and he was 
to take them to their friends, who I suppose 
meant to take care of them. So he had 
them in his sledge, all covered up warm, 
and the poor things w^ere as merry as could 
be, chattering to him and each other about 
where they were going and the fine sights 
they w^ere to see. Presently they began to 
be drowsy, and went to sleep, nestled dow^n 
at his feet. After a while his horses began 
to go faster and faster, and almost to fly, in 
spite of his efforts to check them ; and at the 
same time he heard what he at first took to 
be the moaning of the wind in the pines. 
He looked back and saw a dark mass upon 
the snow, w^hich he soon perceived to be in 
motion ; and he then understood the state of 
the case : the wolves w-ere after him. At 
first he hoped to escape by the speed of his 



266 ADVENTURE WITH A WOLF. 



horses, but it was too plain that the beasts 
were gaining upon him. Their howls awak- 
ened the children, who began to cry and 
scream ; and the sound of their voices, while 
it gave fresh spirit to their pursuers, made 
the horses almost unmanageable. They 
were almost upon them, when some evil 
spirit, I suppose, put it into the man's head 
to save himself at the expense of his charge. 
He snatched up the eldest boy, and, in spite 
of his struggles, tossed him out upon the 
snow." 

Daisy hid her face in the old man's coat. 
Richard continued : — '' This checked the 
pursuit for a time, and he gained a little in 
the race ; but the horses began to flag, the 
road was not good. Again the wolves were 
alongside, and another child was sacrificed. 
This time the delay was very short ; and, 
while the youngest w^as clinging round his 
neck and begging him not to throw it to 
the wolves, a great monster leaped almost 
into the sledge, snatched the poor baby from 
his arms, and it was devoured in an instant. 
By this time the lights of the town were in 
sight : the dogs rushed out barking at the 
noise, and the wolves sullenly retreated. 



THE WOLF. 267 



He had saved his miserable life ; but it was 
at the expense of his orphan charge." 

"What became of him?" asked Erastus. 

"His disordered appearance, the condition 
of his horses, and, above all, his own ravings, 
(for he was beside himself with fear and 
horror,) told the story. The people rose 
upon him, and would have torn him to 
pieces if the magistrates had not rescued 
him out of their hands. He escaped to an- 
other part of the kingdom, where he led a 
miserable life, hated by all who knew his 
story, and tormented by remorse, till, I be- 
lieve, he finally killed himself." 

" Much good his life did him !" exclaimed 
Sidney. " He had better have been killed 
at once, in the way of his duty, — the mise- 
rable coward !" 

"Don't be too hard on him, my son," said 
Erastus. " It was a dreadful hard place. It 
seems a horrible thing to be devoured by 
wild beasts ; and a man — a coward especially 
— would do almost any thing to avoid it." 

"But you wouldn't do such a thing, 
Erastus, I am sure." 

"I should hope I wouldn't be left to 
myself," replied the old hunter, solemnly. 



208 - THE WOLF. 



" Human nature is a poor critter, my clears, 
if you take it at the very best; and the 
bravest man that ever lived has as much 
need to pray not to be led into temptation 
as the greatest coward that ever ran away 
from his shadow." 

" In almost all the wolf-stories I have ever 
read," said Richard, after a little pause, 
'Hhere seems to be a great number together. 
Do they usually hunt in packs ?" 

" They are very apt to, especially in win- 
ter. Some say that the mother and her 
young ones keep together till the cubs are 
a year old. Sometimes they seem to collect 
together for the purpose of hunting some 
one animal, and then separate again. They 
appear to have a real liking for each others' 
company, — poor brutes ! it is only natural, 
as every thing else turns against them, — and, 
if a single wolf finds something to eat, he 
likes to invite others to share it with him. 
This sociable disposition of their's has saved 
people's lives sometimes, by giving them a 
chance to escape w^hile the first wolf was 
invitino; his o;uests. I remember one in- 
stance in particular, which happened in the 
north part of Michigan when that country 



THE WOLF. 269 



was new and wolves were plenty. A wo- 
man, who had a young child old enough to 
toddle about, looked out and saw a wolf 
busily engaged in burying something in a 
heap of shavings not far from the house. 
When he had finished, the brute ran off; 
and the woman^ going to the door, missed 
her child. All at once it flashed upon her 
what the wolf 'had been about. She flew to 
the shavings, and there, sure enough, was the 
child, asleep and unhurt. The wolf had 
found it lying there, and after making all 
safe, as he supposed, had gone to call his 
friends, intending probably to come after 
dark and have a feast. I suppose it didn't 
take her long to get into the house that time.'' 

" I wonder what the wolves thought when 
they got back and found their dinner gone ?" 
remarked Annie. 

" Perhaps they thought the wolf that in- 
vited them had been making game of them," 
replied Erastus; ^'and if they happened to 
be very hungry they may have eaten him 
instead, — for they do such things sometimes. 
I remember something such another case, 
in which a coloured man's life was saved by 
a fiddle!" 

23* 



270 THE WOLF. 



^^ A fiddle !" exclaimed Richard. 

''Yes, by a fiddle and by his own pre- 
sence of mind. He had been to a merry- 
making, and was going home at night with 
his instrument under his arm. I should not 
wonder if he had been drinking a little ; for 
when he got about to the middle of a piece 
of woods he lay down under a little tree 
and went to sleep. By-and-by he was awak- 
ened by something pushing and smelling 
him; and, opening one eye cautiously, he 
perceived, to his horror, that an enormous 
wolf was busy about him, pushing the leaves 
over him with its nose. Though he was 
dreadfully frightened, he had the sense to 
lie perfectly still; and presently the wolf left 
him, and he heard its feet pattering off* on 
the dead leaves. It didn't take him long; to 
jump up and climb the tree under which he 
lay; and he was hardly seated in a crotch, 
with his fiddle under his arm, when the 
wolf came running back, attended by half a 
dozen others. They surrounded the tree, 
howling horribly, and looking up into its 
branches, leaping up and showing their 
white teeth, and even biting the bark of the 
tree in their rage. As I said, the tree was 



THE WOLF. 271 



a small one, and the branches were hardly 
stout enough to bear him ; and he feared, 
besides, that they might try to gnaw it down. 
At last a thought struck him in his despera- 
tion : he seized his fiddle, and, tucking it 
under his chin, began to play furiously. 
Now, whether the coloured man played so 
badly, or whether the wolves were not fond 
of music, I can't take it upon me to say ; 
but the fact was that when he had finished 
'Yankee Doodle,' and looked around for his 
enemies, not one of them was to be seen or 
heard. He kept on playing at intervals till 
sunrise, and then descended from his perch 
and walked home, prouder than ever of his 
fiddle and fully determined never to go to 
sleep in the woods again." 

" Here come grandfather and aunt to see 
the panther," exclaimed Daisy, as they 
were laughing over this story. '^ I wonder 
what they will say when they find it lying 
there?" 

" Oh, I told them before I thought," said 
Sidney, colouring a little. 

"Just like you, Sidney!" retorted Annie. 
"You never can keep anything to yourself, 
— any thing like that," she added, seeing Sid- 



272 THE WOLF. 



ney look a little hurt. " Of course I don't 
mean any thing important." 

The panther was duly admired ; and Eras- 
tus had to tell over once more how he had 
found him in a tree and killed him with 
one shot. 

"So you did not go with the others?'' 
said Miss Winston. 

"No," replied the old man, slowly, and 
smiling in his dry way. " There's so many 
of them, and they make such a noise, I 
thought I should do about as well by my- 
self." 

"I am glad he is disposed of," remarked 
Mr. Winston ; " and I hope his mate, if he 
had one, will take the hint and leave the 
country. I cannot think how they came to 
stray down here at this time of year." 

" They travel a long way sometimes, like 
wolves," said Erastus; "but both have been 
rare game in this part of the country of late 
years, — though they were plenty enough 
when you and I first came into these parts, 
'squire, and for some time after. I suppose 
you do not remember hearing them, do you, 
Miss Louisa?" 

" Oh, yes," replied Miss Winston, smiling. 



THE WOLF. 273 



''1 was quite a great girl at the time of the 
hunt in the cedar-swamp." 

" Tell us about it, aunt, please," said An- 
nie. ^'I don't believe Kate has ever heard 
it." 

'^I should like to hear it again, at any 
rate," remarked Kate. 

'^ You must know, then," said Miss "Win- 
ston, "that, a great many years ago, I was 
coming home one moonlight evening from 
what were then our next neighbours, Mr. 
Smithson's family, who lived in a little red 
house near where the Gillet House now 
stands. I had been there to do an errand, 
with my oldest sister, your aunt Patty, and 
your uncle James, then a little boy ; and they 
had persuaded us to stay to tea. It w^as 
about eight o'clock when we left there, a 
fine moonlight night. There w^as deep snow 
on the ground ; but the ox-teams going to 
the mill had broken the road pretty well. 
Just as we got to where the great oak-tree 
stands by the stone wall, we heard a most 
singular sound — dififerentfrom any thing we 
had ever heard before — down towards the 
barn." 

" Where was the barn ?" interrupted Kate. 



274 THE AVOLF. 



"It stood where the great red barn now 
stands, but was a much less pretentious 
structure, being built of logs, with a pen at 
the side for the sheep. It stood just on the 
edge of a cedar swamp of considerable ex- 
tent. We both started as we heard this cry ; 
and I believe the same thought came into 
both our minds, though we did not give it 
utterance. "We took James between us, and, 
holding each a hand, we hurried along 
through the snow as fast as we could. We 
had not reached the house, however, when 
we heard it again ; and this time I spoke : — 
'I am sure it must be wolves, Patty.' She 
thought so too, and we both started to run, 
— for I was not lame then, and could run as 
well as any of you. As we reached the 
door we met my brother Richard. He had 
been in bed, for he was not very well, but 
had heard the wolves, and he and his father 
were coming to look for us. After some 
consultation, they took a lantern, and, going 
out to the barn, they drove up the sheep 
and secured them in a pen which had been 
made for some purpose close to the house. 
The cows and horses were in the barn and 
safe enough. I remember how I tried to 



THE WOLF. 275 



lie awake and listen ; but I did not succeed 
very well, for I was young and healthy, and 
lying awake was not so easy then as it has 
since become." 

^' Well, and so " said Sidney. 

"And so," continued Miss "Winston, "I 
slept soundly all night and never heard the 
wolves once. In the morning, as soon as it 
was light, my father and brother went dow^n 
to the barn ; and there was a curious sight. 
The wolves — there were seven in all — had 
been about the barn, round and round and 
round, trying to find some way of getting 
in, till the snow for the space of ten rods 
round was beaten as hard and as flat as a 
floor. After they had given up trying to 
get at the horses and cows, (which must 
have spent rather an uncomfortable night, 
poor things !) they had gone in single flle, 
round the very edge of the clearing, till 
they reached neighbour Smithson's, where 
the woods came a good deal nearer the 
road. It seems he too had been alarmed 
after we left him, and had penned his sheep 
in the garden next the house. A light snow 
had fallen the day before and rested on the 
rails ; and here it seemed that one wolf had 



276 THE WOLF. 



broken away from the rest and had come 
up to the garden. They saw the prints of 
his fore-paws on the snow of the top rail, 
as though he had prepared for a spring. 
His courage failed him, however ; for the 
sheep were all safe, and the seven wolves 
w^ere traced all together into another part of 
the swamp across the road, which is still 
standing." 

''Where we found the liverwort, you 
know," said Sidney to Kate. ''But go 
on, please, aunt, and tell us about the hunt." 

"As soon as they returned to the house," 
continued Miss Winston, " Richard got on 
horseback and w^ent all round the neigh- 
bourhood to call the men together for a 
hunt. Their plan was to surround the 
swamp, and then on a given signal to rush 
together, driving the wolves towards one 
end, where were posted about a dozen of 
the best marksmen, w^ho w^ere to shoot the 
animals as they appeared. At the begin- 
ning of the line they stationed a boy with 
a horn, which he w^as to blow^ as. soon as 
the circle was completed, thus giving the 
signal for the rush. It took some time to 
complete the arrangements, and, as the boy 



THE WOLF. 277 



was walking to and fro on his post, he saw 
a large wolf coming directly towards him. 
In his alarm, the first thing he thought of 
was to blow his horn, — which he did : the 
people raised a great shout and rushed to- 
gether ; and, as the swamp was not more than 
half surrounded, nothing was easier than 
for the wolves to make their escape. 

"- Richard, as I said, was in very bad 
health at that time ; and when he came back 
after giving the alarm he was so tired that 
mother persuaded him to lie down. But 
when he heard the noise he could remain 
quiet no longer, and, though he had no gun, 
he went out towards the swamp. As he 
reached the edge of it, he raised his eyes 
and beheld three wolves coming towards him 
in single file. He raised his stick and gave 
a shout : the foremost wolf stopped short, 
and jumped up and down two or three 
times, as though quite beside himself with 
terror ; and then, making a spring, he bound- 
ed clear over Richard's head, followed by 
the two others. And that was the last that 
was seen of the w^olves." 

^' And so they never killed one of them!'* 
"Not a wolf! It appeared from their 

24 



THE WOLF. 



tracks in the snow that every one of them 
took a different path, and ran off for abont 
three miles, when they all met, as if by 
agreement, and proceeded together up the 
valley. I do not remember hearing of them 
after that, though there were a few in the 
neighbourhood some years later." 

'' There are a few always to be found in 
the counties south of here," said Erastus. 
'^I got the bounty on three heads not more 
than a j^ear ago. But I must be a-going, 
'squire. I want to show my cat down at the 
village." And, shouldering his burden, the 
old man strode away as lightly as though it 
weighed no more than a feather. 

''Don't wolves come next in our course 
of lectures ?" asked Richard. " If they do, 
I think we have made a nice beginning." 

'' I had designed commencing with the 
domestic dog," replied Miss Winston; ''but 
since we have, as you say, made a good be- 
ginning with wolves, I think we may as 
well continue them. Will you have your 
lecture here, or in the house ?" 

The children all thought it would be 
pleasanter to sit around the door of the 
playhouse in the twilight. As the evening 



THE WOLF. 279 



was so warm and dry that there was no 
danger of taking cold. Miss Winston con- 
sented. The girls hastened to clear away 
the remains of the supper, and were soon 
ready to sit down with their work, while 
Sidney gathered a quantity of oak-leaves 
and proceeded to make wreaths and trim- 
mings for their dresses. 

"The genus Canis, or the dog family," 
began Miss Winston, '' is distinguished, like 
the genus Felis, by certain invariable cha- 
racteristics, though there is even more va- 
riety in its different members. They are 
digitigrade ; that is, they walk upon their 
toes only, instead of upon the whole foot, 
like men and bears. Their claws are not 
retractile, but are strong, blunt, and fitted 
more for digging the ground than for 
tearing or holding their prey. Certain va- 
rieties have the sole of the foot protected 
by hair, which renders their movements 
particularly noiseless. The ears are large, 
pointed and movable, sometimes erect like 
those of the wolf, sometimes drooping like 
those of the spaniel. The tongue is long, 
soft, and thin at the edges. The teeth con- 
sist of six incisors or cutting-teeth above and 



280 THE WOLF. 



below, four canine teeth, two above and two 
below, and six molars above and seven be- 
low on each side, — making forty-tw^o in all. 
Of these the canines are very large, strong 
and pointed, and those of the lower jaw, as 
it were, clasp the others, thus giving mutual 
support in the act of tearing flesh and 
breaking bones. In some canines, as the 
domestic dog, the pupil of the eye is round : 
in the hyena it is elliptical above and circu- 
lar below; while in the fox it contracts ver- 
tically, like that of the cat." 

'^I did not know that the fox belonged to 
the dog family," observed Kate. 

" Yes, he is Sport's cousin, though not so 
nearly related as the w^olf and jackal. The 
genus Canis comprehends the wolf, the do- 
mestic dogs in all their varieties, the wild 
dogs, dholes or dingos, the jackals, the 
foxes, and the hyenas. All these animals 
live more or less exclusively upon flesh, 
w^hich they seem often to prefer in a putrid 
state ; and most of them are som.ewhat social 
in their habits, collecting together for the 
purposes of hunting and defence. We will, 
if you please, begin with the wolf and take 
up the others in regular succession. 



THE WOLF. 281 



" The wolf has been noticed from the very- 
earliest timeSj both in Europe and Asia ; and 
we find freqnent mention of him in Holy 
Scripture. He is associated with the reli- 
gion or superstitions of many heathen na- 
tions, and is conspicuous in the curious 
mythology of the North of Europe. Odin, 
the All-Father, was attended by a wolf 
named Gold-foot ; and the wolf Fenris was 
to play a conspicuous part in the last great 
destruction of all things, when even the 
gods themselves should cease to be. The 
sacrificers of the Gothic nations wore wolf- 
skin wrappers ; and the 'priest among the 
Gothic tribes was the whoelf, or guelph." 

" The Romans honoured wolves too," said 
Richard, '^ and held a feast in their honour 
called Lupercalia. They believed that the 
founder of their city, Romulus, was suckled 
by a wolf." 

'' One might almost be tempted to believe 
that there was some foundation for the 
story, judging from their cruelty and love 
of bloodshed," replied Miss Winston. " It 
is very commonly believed in Hindostan 
that the wolf occasionally adopts and nou- 
rishes infants, and that the children so 

24* 



282 THE WOLF. 



brought up partake of the characteristics 
of their foster-mother. The peasants in 
many parts of France and Germany believe 
to this day in the existence of wehr-wolves 
or war-wolves, — sorcerers, who are capable 
of assuming for a time the form and manners 
of the wolf, still keeping their own indivi- 
duality, and under this gnise working all 
sorts of mischief to the lives and property 
of their neighbours. It is believed that if 
the clothes of one of these human wolves 
be destroyed while he is in a state of trans- 
formation he can never return to his original 
form, but must forever remain in that of a 
wolf." 

'' How ridiculous !" exclaimed Kate. " I 
should think a magician would do much 
more harm in the shape of a man than in 
that of a wolf, if harm was his object." 

''Popular superstitions, my dear, do not 
often pause to consider the reasonableness 
of a notion. The malignant sagacity which 
seems to belong to the wolf, his burning 
eyes, his fearful bowlings, and, above all, his 
habit of constantly digging up graves in 
order to devour the remains of the dead, 
all conspire to point him out as an object 



THE WOLF. 283 



of horror to ignorant people, who are always 
prone to attribute to magic all that seems 
to them unnatural or unaccountable in the 
beings by which they are surrounded. The 
Hottentots have the same idea with regard 
to their great enemy the lion ; and we have 
seen the East Indians singeing the whiskers 
of the newly-killed tiger to prevent him 
from haunting them." 

''Are there many wolves still remaining 
in Europe?" asked Richard. ''I supposed 
they would be almost exterminated, — from 
the western part at least." 

" There are none remaining in the British 
Islands. Sir Ervan Cameron, a Scotch 
gentleman, killed the last wolf in Great 
Britain in 1680 ; but so late as 1710 wolves 
were slain in Ireland. In France and Spain 
they still abound to such a degree as to 
be very dangerous at times, particularly in 
winter, and that not only to herds but to 
men. The wolves of Spain are black, very 
large, (many of them being too heavy to be 
lifted by a man,) and remarkably bold and 
furious. Their chief haunts are in the 
mountains, where, as soon as it grows dark, 
they may be seen by the side of the road, 



284 THE WOLF. 



bounding along from bush to bush, keeping 
pace with the traveller or the muleteer and 
watching an opportunity to sieze one of the 
mules. In France and Germany they still 
abound, though rewards are offered for their 
destruction." 

^'I should think/' remarked Kate, ^^that 
it would be a good thing for the French and 
German governments to employ some of 
their many troops in hunting wolves. It 
would be putting them to some use ; and it 
would not be nearly so expensive as war. 
But perhaps these fine gentlemen might 
consider such a service beneath their dig- 
nity." 

''I think that very probable," said Miss 
Winston. ''One would think that if the 
people were allowed a free use of arms, and 
a suitable reward were offered, the instinct 
of self-preservation would lead them to de- 
stroy as many as possible of these mis- 
chievous animals. The Prussian govern- 
ment has recently adopted these or similar 
measures; and in Switzerland, when a wolf 
appears, the church-bells are rung, the men 
take their rifles, and the intjaider is soon 
either killed or driven back to his old 



THE WOLF. 285 



quarters in France or Savoy. In Russia, 
Sweden and JsTorway, as might be expected, 
wolves are still very numerous. It is said 
that, in the course of the wars of IS'apoleon, 
Siberian wolves were found in Poland and 
even in Prussia, — they having foUow^ed the 
armies in their marches to feed not only 
upon the slain but upon the dead horses 
and other offal left in the track of the host. 
This well-known fact of wolves following 
in the march of armies may perhaps explain 
how the same varieties come to be so gene- 
rally diffused over the whole of Europe and 
Asia." 

"I suppose wolves are very cunning," 
said Daisy, who perhaps was thinking of 
poor little ''Red Riding-Hood." 

''In thickly -inhabited countries, where 
they have many enemies and are often re- 
duced to extremities of hunger, they seem 
to become so. Colonel Hamilton Smith 
gives a very lively description of their 
habits, which I will read to you. He says, — 

"'They never quit cover to windward; 
they trot along its edges till the wind of the 
open country comes towards them and they 
can be assured by their scent that no sus- 



286 THE WOLF. 



picious object is in that direction. Then 
they advance, snuffing the coming vapours, 
and keep as much as possible along hedges 
and brushwood, to avoid detection, pushing 
forward to the distance of many miles in a 
single journey. If there be several, they keep 
in file, and step so nearly in each others' tracks 
that in soft ground it would seem as if only 
one had passed. They bound across narrow 
roads without leaving a footprint, or follow 
them on the outside. These movements 
seldom begin before dark, nor are they pro- 
tracted beyond daybreak. If single, the wolf 
W'ill visit out-houses, enter the farm-yard, 
first listening, smelling the ground, snuffing 
up the air, and bounding over the threshold 
without touching it. Then he retreats : his 
head is low, turned obliquely, the one ear 
forward, the other back, his eyes burning 
like flame. He trots crouching, his brush 
obliterating the tracks of his feet, till at a 
distance from the scene of depredation, when, 
going more freely, he continues his route 
to cover, and, as he enters it, first raises his 
tail and flings it up in triumph. It is said 
that a wolf, when pressed by hunger and 
roaming around farms, will utter a single 



THE WOLF. 287 



howl to entice the watch-dogs in pursuit of 
him. If they come out, he will flee till one 
is sufficiently forward of the others to be 
singled out and devoured. But dogs in 
general are more cautious; and even hounds 
require to be encouraged, or they will not 
follow upon the scent.' " 

"Are wolves fond of their young ones?'' 
asked Annie. 

"They are said to be very much so," re- 
plied Miss Winston, — " though they are 
somewhat severe in their family-discipline. 
Colonel Smith says that they punish their 
whelps if they emit a scream of pain, 
and will bite, maltreat and drag them by 
the tail till they have learned to bear pain in 
silence ; but otherwise they seem to treat 
them well. Both parents unite in providing 
food for them ; and the she-wolf keeps her 
young about her long after they are able to 
provide for themselves." 

" "Well done. I am glad there is something 
good about the poor thing," said Sidney. 
"I have always looked upon the w^olf as the 
very model of all sorts of meanness, cruelty 
and treachery." 

" There j^ou are mistaken, Sidney. The 



288 THE WOLF. 



wolf has his excellences as well as his 
cousin the dog, — though I admit that they 
are neither so various nor so shining. 
Wolves in captivity have often shown 
great affection for those who have been in 
the habit of feeding or caressing them. 
Mr. Gosse tells a story, which he asserts to 
be perfectly well authenticated, of a pack 
of seventeen wolves who were seen upon 
the ice of a Canadian lake and pursued. 
Most of them immediately dispersed ; but 
seven or eight remained together around 
one, to which they seemed to act as a sort 
of body-guard. After a w^hile these also 
scattered, — all but tw^o, who still remained 
faithful to their comrade, urging her for- 
ward, and turning from time to time upon 
their pursuers until they were shot down 
and the object of their solicitude captured 
It proved to be a she-wolf, very old and 
completely blind. She was quite helpless 
without her guides, and only cried piteously 
when she was taken, without attempting 
any resistance. The den was found not very 
far oft*; and, from appearances, it seemed as 
though all the wolves in the neighbourhood 



THE WOLF. 289 



were in the habit of resorting thither to 
bring her supplies." 

"Ah, but they were American wolves!'* 
persisted Sidney. ''I dare say the Euro- 
pean wolves are different." 

'' Sidney, for shame!" said Annie. "I 
think you might be willing to allow them 
as much merit as that. You have not said 
much about American wolves, aunt. Is 
there more than one kind?" 

"Yes, several, — though their habits and 
varieties are not so well ascertained as they 
should be. The gray wolf of the Northern 
States and Canada corresponds very exactly 
with the gray wolf of Europe, so that one 
description may serve for them both. The 
hair is of a rusty-gray colour, hard and strong, 
and is longer and thicker on the neck and 
shoulders, forming a kind of mane. The 
nose is black, the upper lip and chin white, 
and there is a blackish band upon each wrist. 
The black wolf is found in the Southern 
States, and, like his brother of Europe, is 
larger and stronger than the gray variety. 
There is a dusky wolf found to the north 
of Canada, which is said to resemble the 
dog of the Arctic circle more than the wolf. 

25 



290 THE WOLF. 



The prairie-wolf is a smaller and more 
cowardly animal, very destructive to sheep 
and calves, though seldom or never daring to 
attack man. It is still found in the Western 
States, though fast disappearing under the 
advances of civilization. The skin is much 
used for sleigh and carriage robes. The 
cayottC; coyote or coyott of Mexico is 
another variety, larger and fiercer than the 
last, but not so large as the ISTorthern wolf. 
And now, if you please, we will return to 
the house ; for the evening is growing quite 
damp. Our next lecture shall be upon dogs, 
about which we shall, no doubt, find stories 
enough to satisfy even Sidney.'' 




The Dog. 



p. 291. 



THE DOGS. 291 



CHAPTER VIII. 

THE DOGS. 

The lecture upon dogs did not come quite 
so soon as the children had anticipated. 
The next day being Sunday, they had none, 
of course ; but after their usual Sunday 
lessons were finished they occupied them- 
selves in searching the Bible for allusions 
to dogs and wolves, and made out quite a 
list, to be ready against the next evening. 

"I think the lecture upon dogs will be 
the most interesting of the whole," said 
Sidney. "There are so many beautiful 
stories about dogs, and they have such 
curious ways. I hope nothing will happen 
to prevent our hearing it." 

"I have a kind of feeling that something 
will," remarked Annie. "I have an idea 
that we shall have company to-morrow : I 
don't know why, unless because we have 
been without so long." 



292 VISITORS. 



"Why, yes," said Eichard. "The hotel 
has been quite empty for the past two 
weeks. We have only had people to dinner 
three times, and then people from the city 
to spend the day, and Mr. and Mrs. Cre- 
ditou to tea twice." 

"They don't count, because they are just 
like our own family," said Annie. "But I 
think somebody will come to-morrow, — 
though I hope not." 

Annie's prophecy was fulfilled the next 
day in the shape of their aunt Meredith, 
as the children called her, (though Sidney 
always insisted that she was only an aunt- 
in-law,) and her two children, Antoinette 
and Matilda. These two little girls — or 
young ladies, as they preferred to be called — 
were no great favourites with the children 
at The Meadows, though the latter did their 
best to entertain them, — especially Annie, to 
whose share they naturally fell. They were 
always very much dressed, with a great deal 
of fashion, and could never run nor play 
without f^r of breaking or tearing or 
spoiling something, or putting their hair 
out of curl, or ruining their complexion. 
They screamed at insects and mice, and were 



CITY COUSINS. 293 



most inconveniently afraid of frogs, toads 
and snakes : every cow by the roadside was 
a furious bull, and every dog was either 
mad or spiteful. Antoinette even pretended 
to be afraid of Sidney's pointer Sport, and 
of little Bruno, the Skye terrier, who on 
his part hated her with a perfect hatred. 
They looked down on their country- 
cousins and in their hearts regarded them 
as ignorant little savages. Annie's thick 
shoes, calico frocks and gingham sun- 
bonnets were hideous in their eyes; and 
they wondered that any one so rich as their 
grandfather would allow his grandchildren 
to go looking so much '^ like district-school- 
children." Annie had once taken them out 
on one of their rambling excursions with 
Mr. Crediton ; but their inconvenient fears, 
and the airs of exclusiveness they put on 
towards the other children, made her repent 
of it twenty times before they reached 
horiie ; and she quietly resolved never again 
to expose herself to such mortification upon 
their account. ^ 

Besides these little incongruities, which 
perhaps were, after all, not very important, 
the Meredith girls — as Sidney impolitely 



294 AN INCIDENT. 



called them — had one trait of character which 
their cousins justly regarded as very mean. 
They were excessively sly. Their mother, 
who prided herself upon her exact and strict 
discipline, (as poor Daisy knew to her cost,) 
never allowed them to read story-books of 
any sort ; and this rule bore particularly hard 
upon them at The Meadows. The children 
there were not, indeed, allowed to read any 
book without asking permission ; but, as 
their library was kept w^ell supplied with 
proper reading-matter, they did not feel the 
restraint as a hardship and never sought to 
evade it ; while Antoinette, who loved stories 
of all sorts, was continually seeking private 
opportunities of gratifying her taste. Annie 
was much amazed, on going suddenly 
into their* room one day, to find Antoinette 
so interested in a small yellow-covered 
pamphlet as to be almost unconscious of 
her presence. She looked up suddenly and 
made a move to hide the book behind her, 
but, thinking better of it, she said, carelessly, 
'' Is it the ffashion here to come in without 
knocking?" 

Annie coloured in her turn, — not from 
shame, but vexation. " I did not know you 



A BAD TRAIT. 295 



were here, Antoinette : I thought you were 
down-stairs with Matilda, and I came to get 
something out of the closet. You seem to 
have a very interesting book," she added, 
not wishing to appear annoyed. "What 
is it?" 

"I will show you, if you will promise 
not to tell mamma or Matilda," replied An- 
toinette, mysteriously, — "if you will promise 
faithfully not to tell." 

"Why not?" asked Annie, innocently. 

" Why not, you goose ? Because if 
Matilda knows she will be sure to tell 
mother, and then there will be a fuss, of 
course. But I don't believe you will." And 
she held out the book as she spoke. But 
Annie drew back. 

"I don't like secrets, Antoinette," she 
said. "I never can see any use in them; 
and I am sure that is not a proper book, or 
you would not be so afraid." 

"But you won't tell?" said Antoinette, 
in alarm, as Annie turned to leave the 
room. "You won't surely tell?" 

" Of course not, unless I am asked. Why 
should I?" replied Annie, very much dis- 



296 ANOTHER BAD TRAIT. 



gusted. '' We are not in the habit of telling 
tales in this house." 

But Antoinette and Matilda were very 
much in the habit of telling tales of each 
other, and of acting the spy on each other, 
too ; and it so chanced that Matilda, prying 
about among her sister's things, found the 
said book, with one or two others, and carried 
them to her mother. Antoinette, in revenge, 
informed her mother how Matilda had 
bought cocoanut-cakes and chocolate-drops 
in the village and eaten them in bed at 
night : so both the sisters were in disgrace 
all one day. 

But the Merediths were not only sly : they 
were greatly given to exaggeration ; and they 
never hesitated to tell what they called a fib 
to get themselves out of a difficulty. Thus, 
one day when they were at play in the 
meadow, Matilda chose to walk out into the 
river on some stones to gather a flowering 
flag that struck her fancy. Sidney ofiered 
to get it for her ; but she chose to help her- 
self, and the consequence was that she 
slipped in and covered herself with mud 
and water up to the knees. When her 
mother questioned her about the affair, " I 



ANOTHER BAD TRAIT. 297 



dropped my basket in, mamma," said she, 
"and, in trying to fish it out, I fell in my- 
self/' Mrs. Meredith told her she should 
be more careful, and added, looking at the 
boys, that some young gentlemen would 
have been polite enough to get it for her. 

Sidney and Richard said not a word, 
though they looked unutterable things at 
each other. As soon as they were by them- 
selves, Daisy, who had witnessed the whole 
transaction, said to Matilda, very seriously, 
^'Cousin, didn't anyone ever tell you that 
it was wicked to tell lies ?" 

^'What do you mean, you little sauce- 
box?" asked Matilda, colouring. 

•^'You told your mother a lie about 
getting wet," replied Daisy, gravely. ''You 
said you went in to get the basket ; and you 
didn't do any such thing: it was for the 
flowers." 

" Oh, that was only a fib, — a white lie," 
said Matilda, feeling rather foolish at the 
child's rebuke; ''and, besides, Daisy, you 
should never say that any one tells lies. 
That is very ill-bred, mamma says. You 
should say wrong stories.'' 

"It says lie in the Catechism," persisted 



298 ANOTHER BAD TRAIT. 



Daisy. ^'^Evil speaking, lying and slander- 
ing/ — and in the Bible, too. Annie copied 
out all the texts about it, and it does not 
say wrong story once." 

" Did you ever see such a little old-fash- 
ioned thing as she is?" said Matilda, aside, 
to her sister. 

''I don't know but she is right," replied 
Antoinette, who had seemed to be rather 
struck with her little cousin's remarks. ''If 
it really is lying, it is well enough to call it 
so." 

"- You needn't set up to be virtuous, at 
any rate," retorted Matilda. ''You are no 
better than I am about that, or any thing 
else." 

Antoinette was perfectly aware of that 
fact, but it was a fact that might reasonably 
make her rather uneasy. She saw a great 
difference between her cousins and herself, 
and she had lately felt an uneasy conscious- 
ness that the superiority was not, as she had 
formerly imagined, entirely upon her side. 
But she was not inclined to confess this 
feeling to her sister, of all the people in the 
world: so she made her a sharp answer, and 
went away, feeling vexed with her cousin, 



ANOTHER BAD TRAIT. 299 



with Matilda and everybody else, — most 
of all with herself. 

With so many differences of opinion and 
feeling, not to say principle, it may be 
guessed that the society of Antoinette and 
Matilda was no especial pleasure to the chil- 
dren, and they were heartily glad when 
their governess. Miss Taylor, came back. 
She was a very amiable and bright young 
lady, and the children were extremely fond 
of her : their holiday had been a long one, 
and they were glad to begin regular lessons 
again^though Antoinette and Matilda grum- 
bled a good deal at having to study with 
them. Miss Taylor did not find that the 
presence of her new pupils at all diminished 
her cares, and frankly told Miss Winston 
that they gave her more trouble than all the 
rest put together. She was willing to do 
what she could for them, but she hoped she 
should not be judged by her success. An- 
toinette, however, really appeared to awaken 
after a time to the desire of improving her- 
self. Annie noticed that she seemed in- 
clined to be more open, and that in one or 
two little affairs which transpired she took 
pains to speak the exact truth, though it 



300 JACK SHORT AGAIN. 



was at the cost of some little trouble to her- 
self. Moreover, she became more faithful 
in the performance of her tasks ; practised 
her hour faithfully upon her lessons, instead 
of wasting it in trifling as she and Matilda 
had been accustomed to do unless some- 
body were present to watch them, and took 
much pains with her other lessons, especially 
her drawing, in which even her mother al- 
lowed that she made great improvement, 
adding, lest Miss Taylor should be too much 
elated, that it was not to be wondered at, as 
they had- before had the best of instruction. 
Meantime Eichard had commenced with 
his pupil, Jack Short, whose improvement 
had been rapid enough to satisfy even him- 
self, and quite amazed his young teacher. 
He found that Jack understood pretty well 
the first four rules of arithmetic, and had 
learned the tables, but not very thoroughly. 
He was always looking back at the multi- 
plication-table every time he was at a loss ; 
and Richard represented to him the pro- 
priety of learning it more perfectly. Jack 
demurred. He wanted to get on, he said ; 
and what was the use of taking pains to 



THE PUZZLED PUPIL. 301 



learu the table, so long as he had the book 
by him to look at ? 

"But you cannot always have the book 
by you," argued Richard. " Suppose, for 
instance, you were out surveying : you would 
not like to carry a book and be obliged to 
look at it every time you wanted to know 
how much were six times seven, or how 
many feet make a rod." 

Finally, Jack concluded to learn the tables, 
and did so, — though it was hard work, as he 
was not accustomed to commit to memory. 
He conquered them, however, and found 
them worth the trouble they had cost him. 
Compound numbers were passed through 
easily enough ; but, when they came to vul- 
gar fractions. Jack found himself in deeper 
water. Perhaps the young teacher's expla- 
nations were not the clearest in the world, 
or possibly the book might be in fault; but 
certain it is that Jack grew more and more 
puzzled every day, and finally, one afternoon, 
he threw down the book with an oath, de- 
claring that he would not touch the con- 
founded thing again. 

''It seems to me that you are the one that 
is confounded, and not the book," said Rich- 

26 



302 TITK PASSIONATE PUPIL. 



arcl, rather slyly. '^ But I would not swear: 
it will not mend the matter ; and, besides, you 
promised you would not do so any more." 

"It's none of your business whether 1 
swear or not," retorted Jack, his humour 
not being improved by being put in mind 
of his promise. ^' You are not my master, 
DickAYinston." 

"I don't want to be your master, lam 
sure," replied Richard, gently, though he 
felt very much vexed. "You asked me to 
teach you, and I am very glad to do it, but 
not if you use such words. And I tell you 
plainly you shall not swear." 

" Shall not ! I should like to see you help 
yourself, and be to you." 

"I cannot help what you do; but I can 
help what I do," said Richard, quietly; and, 
getting up from the door-step where they 
had been sitting, he walked towards the gate, 
when, turning round, he added, "Any time 
you are ready to begin again, I am ready; 
but it must be upon my own terms." 

Quite beside himself with passion. Jack 
hurled after Richard the slate he held in his 
hand. Richard dodged ; and the slate, nar- 
rowly missing his head, struck the gate-post 



A MORTIFICATION. 303 



and was dashed into many pieces. Ricliard 
stopped short, looked at Jack steadily for a 
moment, and then departed without another 
word. He walked home feeling very much 
grieved and disappointed. He had had 
great hopes of Jack ever since his illness ; 
and perhaps with other feelings was mingled 
some wounded pride as he thought how 
much he had said at home about his pupil's 
improvement. He had really taken a great 
deal of pains and practised much self-denial 
upon the boy's account, and now here was his 
reward. He felt so unhappy that on reach- 
ing a retired place in the woods, through 
which he usually passed, he sat down and 
cried, — a thing which he had not done in 
more than a year before. The first thing 
he heard on reaching the school-room was, 
"Where is Dick? We cannot do any thing 
without him. I suppose he is up at the saw- 
mill with his hopeful pupil, as usual." The 
speaker was Annie, who had never become 
reconciled to the idea of her brother's spend- 
ing so much time with that Short boy, as 
she called him. Richard had not intended 
to mention the affair at home ; but his own 
feelings and Annie's remarks were too 



304 A MORTIFICATION. 



much for him, and he said, with a quivering 
lip, ''You need not distress j'Ourself, Annie. 
I shall never go there again." 

''What is the matter?" asked Sidney, 
looking anxiously at his cousin. "I do be- 
lieve — " you have been crying, he was going 
to say, when he remembered that perhaps 
Richard would not like to have it noticed; 
and he changed it into — "you have had 
some trouble with Jack. What was it?" 

Richard related his story, feeling a little 
of the proud spirit of martyrdom as he did 
so. There were various opinions expressed ; 
but all agreed in blaming Jack and applaud- 
ing Richard. " It is always the way when 
one tries to do good to such people," said 
Annie: "you get nothing but abuse in re- 
turn. I told you so, Dick, before you began ; 
and I only hope you will believe me next 
time." 

" You speak as though you were rather 
glad of it than otherwise, Annie," said Miss 
Taylor, who had been sitting in the window- 
recess, engaged in writing. Annie coloured. 
She knew that in her heart she was glad. 
"It is true," Miss Taylor continued, "that 
every one who tries to imitate the bles^scd 



A WRONG INFERENCE. 305 



example of our divine Teacher in going 
about doing good must expect to meet with 
more or less ingratitude from the objects of 
his charity ; but that is no reason for giving 
up trying. If it were, we should be badly 
off; for none of us but show the same spirit 
at times, and require the exercise of forbear- 
ance and charity not only from those around 
us, but from a higher power. 'God is a 
righteous judge, strong and patient; and 
God is provoked every day.' " 

" Then I suppose you think it is Richard's 
duty to keep on going there to have slates 
and stones thrown at his head," said Annie, 
— vexed at what seemed like a reproof. 

"Do you suppose so, Annie?" said Miss 
Taylor, looking keenly at her. Annie did 
not reply, and she continued: — ''I think 
Richard should not allow himself to be too 
much discouraged by this explosion of pas- 
sion upon Jack's part, but be ready to help 
him again, if opportunity offers. Neither 
do I think his offence an entirely unheard- 
of crime," she added, smiling. "I think I 
have heard of books being thrown across 
this very school-room, and not so very long 
ago, either." 

26^ 



306 A PLAN. 

Sidney coloured, and then laughed. " I 
know it, Miss Taj'lor. I thought of that 
very thing in a moment; and that was the 
reason I did not speak. I dare say Jack 
will be sorry enough when he comes to 
think about it, for I do believe he has been 
trying very hard to do right, lately." 

" And it is not so easy to be good all in 
a minute, either," observed Antoinette, who 
had been an attentive listener, though she 
had said nothing. ^'It is hard to leave off 
doing wrong things, if one wants to leave 
off ever so much." 

"It is as you say, my dear," replied Miss 
Taylor, kindly ; " and we should not be dis- 
couraged or out of patience with ourselves 
or others, though we fail many times. And 
now I advise you to drop the subject for the 
present and go on with your *plans for the 
evening." 

The plan was to take the wagon and 
drive down to the village, to bring Kate up 
to tea, that she might hear the lecture upon 
dogs which was to be given them this even- 
ing. Mr. "Winston had given them leave to 
use both the horses and to take a drive before 
they came home. Matilda would not go, 



A DRIVER. 307 



professing to be afraid of Richard's driving; 
and she did her best to persuade her mo- 
ther not to give Antoinette permission ; but 
Mr. Winston laughed so much at the idea 
that Richard was not a safe driver that 
Mrs. Meredith finally allowed her darling 
to run the risk. The drive was a very plea- 
sant one ; and Richard had almost forgotten 
his annoyance w^hen he arrived at home. 

Matilda thought an evening spent in talk- 
ing about dogs must be very stupid, and 
made up her mind that it would not be 
worth her while to listen very attentively. 
Antoinette, on the contrary, was delighted 
at the idea of having some stories^ for stories 
of all sorts were what she loved best in the 
world, and, as we have seen, she did not 
get many at home. Moreover, she had 
been trying hard all day to do her duty, 
and Miss Taylor had encouraged and com- 
mended her — which Mrs. Meredith very 
seldom did, having an idea that it was very 
bad for children to praise them : so it was 
with a feeling of no common satisfaction 
that she seated herself to listen. 

"To what family does the dog belong?' 
asked Miss Winston. 



308 THE DOG. 



"The canine family," replied Sidney. 

" And what are the principal characteris- 
tics of this family?" 

Sidney repeated them without forgetting 
any of them, and wrote down the dental 
formula without a mistake. He was be- 
gining to have a much more exact memory 
for such matters. 

" Quite right," said Miss Winston. " The 
dog — the most familiar example of this large 
and important family — has been the com- 
panion of man from the earliest ages. In 
the Bible, the first mention of dogs occurs 
in Exodus xi. 7 : — ' But against the children 
of Israel shall not a dog move his tongue, 
against man or against beast.' In the book 
of Job — supposed to be one of the oldest 
in the Bible — dogs are mentioned as being 
employed to assist the herdsmen and shep- 
herds : — 'But now they who are younger 
than I have me in derision, whose fathers 
I would not have set with the dogs of my 
flock.' (Job XXX. 1.) Isaiah also speaks of 
unfaithful watchmen as ' dumb dogs, that 
cannot bark, lying down, loving to slumber; 
greedy dogs, which can never have enough.' 
(Isaiah Ivi. 10.) That they were not held in 



THE DOG. 309 



any high estimation among the Jews ap- 
pears from many passages of Scripture. 
' Am I a dog, that thou comest against me 
with staves?' said Goliath to David. 'Is 
thy servant a dog, that he should do this 
great thing?' said Hazael to Elisha, who 
was recounting to him the crimes he would 
be led to commit. It was forbidden by the 
law to bring the price of a dog into the 
treasury of the Lord. St. John, in the 
Revelation, speaking of the Holy City, 
says, ^without are dogs,' — drawing his il- 
lustration, no doubt, from the multitudes of 
unowned, half-starved dogs which infest 
almost all Eastern cities and are sometimes 
dangerous to those who go about at night." 

" Are there any races of wild dogs exist- 
ing now, aunt ?" asked Richard. 

" Yes, many which resemble the domestic 
dog more or less, such as the dhole of India, 
the dingo of Australia, and others, which 
we shall notice at a future time. There are 
also, in certain localities, races of dogs 
which have become wild from a state of 
domestication ; and they are called Feral 
dogs. A very fine race of them exists, or 
did exist, in St. Domingo, which are very 



310 THE DOG. 



large and powerful, savage in their wild 
state, but tolerably easily tamed and very 
useful as cattle-dogs. Colonel Smith saw 
one of these dogs in Spanish Town, Jamaica, 
and describes it as a very large and noble 
creature. ^ The looks and motions of this 
animal,' he remarks, 'at once told of a con- 
sciousness of superiority. As he passed 
down the street, all the town curs slunk 
away. When within our lodging, the 
family-dog had disappeared, although he 
had neither growled nor barked. We were 
assured he followed a human track, or 
any scent he was laid upon, with silence 
and great rapidity, but, unlike the common 
bloodhound, when he came upon his quarry 
it was impossible to prevent him from at- 
tacking and seizing his victim.' There is 
also a fine race of Feral dogs about Mount 
Ida and the plains of Troy." 

''Where is Mount Ida?" asked An- 
toinette. 

"Don't interrupt, Antoinette," said her 
mother. "I am sure yon know where 
Mount Ida is. You learned it in your 
geography long ago." 

'I don't know," replied Antoinette, 



a 



THE DOG. 311 



rather sullenly. "I never can remember 
places in geography." 

^' Mount Ida is in Asia Minor," said Miss 
Winston, "near the site of the ancient and 
famous city of Troy. You will find both by 
looking down the coast of Asia Minor from 
the Dardanelles. These dogs band together 
in packs, and, though inoffensive unless 
attacked, are bold and prompt in avenging 
an insult. A couple of English midship- 
men once landed at Troy, and, seeing a 
number of these animals at a short dis- 
tance, fired at them, in spite of the remon- 
strances of their guides. But the dogs, in- 
stead of being alarmed, came bounding 
fiercely towards them ; and the party had to 
run for their lives. 

" Constantinople, Cairo in Egypt, and, in 
fact, almost all Eastern cities, are inhabited 
by crowds of homeless and masterless dogs, 
which take refuge in the cemeteries and 
ruined buildings and make night hideous 
with their quarrels and bowlings. They 
subsist upon the offal thrown out into the 
streets, and upon the bounty of charitable 
Mohammedans, who are in the habit of set- 
ting out portions of food and water for 



312 THE DOG. 



them. ' They inhabit particular districts/ 
says an Eastern traveller; 'and those of one 
quarter seldom intrude upon those of an- 
other, or, if thej' do, they are speedily driven 
back again to their own haunts.' It is a 
curious fact that hydrophobia is entirely 
unknown among them. The pariah dogs 
of India seem to have similar habits, but to 
be more aflectionate in their disposition 
and more prone to attach themselves to par- 
ticular persons. Good Bishop Heber men- 
tions one of these animals which chose to 
attach itself to him in one of his long jour- 
neys, and manifested all the amiable quali- 
ties of his more civilized brethren, guard- 
ing the baggage, keeping watch at night 
and showing the utmost solicitude for the 
safet}' of his self-elected patron. The men 
of the native regiments make a curious use 
of the docility of their dogs. These Sepoy 
regiments, as they are called, are made up 
of men of all sorts of different tribes and 
castes, so that hardly any two of them can 
eat together, as, according to their notions, 
their food would be polluted by even the 
shadow of a companion passing over it. 
As their duties prevent the close supervi- 



THE DOO. 813 



sion which this idea renders necessary, they 
leave the care of their dinner to their 
dogs, which keep off all intruders, spring- 
ing into the air to drive away the vultures 
and butcher-birds, and are very careful to 
prevent their own shadow from crossing the 
pot." 

"Well done!" said Antoinette. '' I did 
not suppose a dog could be taught so 
much." 

"I think we shall hear of instances of 
docility more curious even than this before 
we get through with them. Dogs may 
be educated to almost any extent ; and, 
what is very singular, these acquired facul- 
ties seem to be transmitted from one gene- 
ration to another. Those most skilful in 
such matters believe pointing game to have 
been the result of education originally; and 
yet puppies of this breed point without 
being taught. In certain districts of Eng- 
land and France dogs are educated to hunt 
for truffles and bring them to their masters, 
who make much profit in this way." 

" What are truffles ?" asked Daisy. 

" They are a species of fungus, having a 
peculiar smell and a flavour much like that 

21 



314 THE DOG. 



of a mushroom, and are greatly valued for 
flavouring sauces and made-dishes. They 
grow entirely under ground, and therefore 
would be difficult to find but for the aid of 
these dogs, who discover them by the smell 
and then carefully scratch them up and 
cany them to their masters. They are first 
taught to do so by feeding them upon 
bread which has been kept in the same box 
with a truffle ; and when they have thus ac- 
quired a fondness for the flavour the bread 
is buried, and they are easily taught to dig 
it up. A dried truffle is then substituted, 
which the dog soon discovers and carries to 
his master, who always rewards him with a 
piece of bread. Pigs are also taught to find 
them ; but they are rather apt to devour the 
prize themselves, instead of carrying it to 
their master." 

''Are they found in this country?" asked 
Richard. 

" I believe they have been found ; but, as 
there are several varieties, some of which 
are poisonous, it would be necessary to use 
great caution in eating them. Some dogs 
seem to have the instinct of watchfulness in 
a high degree ; and this is especially the case 



THE DOG. 315 



with the mastiff* and the shepherd dog 
races. In the mastiff" especially this is 
very remarkable. Any thing committed to 
his care is perfectly safe so long as he 
can defend it. He keeps vigilant watch of 
all strangers, accompanying their move- 
ments with jealous care, but seldom offer- 
ing them any injury unless they commit 
some aggression. This was especially the 
case with Sancho, a very large mastiff who 
died before any of you were born." 

" Grandfather showed us his grave in the 
orchard," said Sidney; '^ and we are going 
to make him a tombstone some day." 

" Many a stately monument has been 
worse bestowed," replied Miss "Winston, 
" for Sancho was a model of all dogly — and 
I might almost say of some human — virtue. 
He was a large, yellowish dog, with a black 
mouth, and very powerful jaws, which he 
seldom used offensively. His care of the 
place and every thing connected with it was 
wonderful. I remember on one occasion a 
stranger entered the garden and began to 
walk about in a way which excited Sancho's 
suspicions; and he soon found himself at- 
tended by the dog as by a shadow. As 



316 THE DOG. 



Sancho seemed very good-tempered and 
civil, however, the man felt no fear of him, 
and presently took hold of some flower in 
order to examine it more closely. The 
instant he did so, Sancho seized hold of his 
pantaloons and held him as in a vice. It 
was useless to attempt to stir: if he 
menaced or threatened, Sancho growled ; 
if he tried to coax him, Sancho wagged his 
tail, but did not let go his hold ; and the man 
was obliged to remain a close prisoner till 
some one of the family saw his predicament 
and released him. Sancho used to take in- 
truding pigs by the ear and lead them to 
the gate with exemplary gravity, where, if it 
w^as open, he would dismiss them with much 
politeness, and if it was shut he would hold 
them, in spite of their noise, till some one 
came. 

^^ Sancho had a peculiar manner of testi- 
fying his respect for those he liked. When- 
ever he saw them coming he would seize 
upon a stick and run towards them, carry- 
ing it in his mouth. He w^ould put up with 
a straw if he could find nothing more 
suitable; but the larger the stick the better; 
and I have seen him run with a long bean- 



THE DOG. 317 



pole in his montli. He once attempted to 
carry a ladder ; but that was rather too much 
for him. He never forgot any one who 
had been kind to him, and his dislikes were 
equally inveterate : a person who had once 
treated him rudely would never be noticed 
by him again. He disliked cats in general, 
and would often kill them; but he was 
always on friendly relations with the family 
cat for the time, and would fight her battles 
with other dogs. The horses, however, 
were his most intimate friends, and he 
always went with the carriage." 

"What was the end of him?" asked 
Matilda, who had been listening attentively, 
despite her resolution not to be interested. 

" A very sad one. There was an alarm 
of mad dogs throughout 4:he country, caused 
by a large spaniel which had run through 
the village foaming at the mouth and had 
bitten three or four people and I don't 
know how many dogs and cattle. It was 
proved that this spaniel had entered the 
yard and been seen with our dogs ; and of 
course sentence was passed upon them, and 
our poor Sancho was shot." 

"What a shame!" exclaimed several 

27- 



318 THE DOG. 



voices; and Sidney added, "I think they 
might have chained him up and kept him 
for a few days to see. It would have been 
as easy to shoot him afterwards." 

" And what became of the people who 
w^ere bitten?" asked Matilda. ^'Did they 
run mad?" 

" Not one of them," replied Miss Win- 
ston. ^^It turned out with them as with 
the man in Goldsmith's ballad : — 

< The man recovered of the bite ; 
The dog it was that died.' 

Nothing happened to any of them except 
a great fright. It was discovered after- 
wards that the spaniel was a puppy who 
had lost his master, and, becoming bewil- 
dered, had lost his way, and, quite beside 
himself with thirst and fear, had caused all 
the alarm and lost us our excellent house- 
dog. 

^'It is said that the instinct of guarding 
property which distinguishes the mastift* 
is sometimes exercised quite disinterestedly 
and for the benefit of entire strangers. A 
lady at Bath was surprised and somewhat 
alarmed at being stopped by a large mastiff, 



THE DOG. 319 



which refused to allow her to proceed. At 
last she discovered the loss of her veil ; and, 
turning back, the dog accompanied her to 
the place wheize she had dropped it, and 
then returned to his master. A gentleman 
who was once riding accompanied by his 
dog became ver37 much alarmed at the 
singular behaviour of the latter, which re- 
fused to allow him to proceed, and by 
growls and menaces seemed to threaten to 
tear him from his horse. He became at 
last so frightened that he drew a pistol and 
shot the dog, mortally wounding but not 
killing him, and rode on as fast as pos- 
sible. No sooner had he stopped, however, 
than he became aware of the loss of a 
bag of money w^hich he was carrying. At 
once, the meaning of the dog's behaviour 
flashed upon him : he hastily retraced his 
steps ; and there, some distance from the 
scene of the tragedy, he found his money 
all safe, and the mastiff lying beside it! 
The poor wounded creature had painfully 
crawled back and laid himself down by the 
treasure, determined to guard his master's 
interests to the last. He was still alive, 
and able to express his forgiveness, as it 



320 THE Doa. 



were, by responding affectionately to his 
friend's caresses ; but the aim was a fatal 
one, and he expired in the act of licking his 
master's hand." 

"I should not like to have been that 
man," observed Kate. 

" No. His feelings must have been pain- 
ful enough. The French smugglers have 
a curious and amusing mode of availing 
themselves of the faithfulness of their 
dogs and their care for their masters' in- 
terests. Valuable laces and other small 
articles are packed securely inside their 
collars and are thus safely carried into 
Belgium, the custom-house officers, though 
very strict in searching persons, never 
dreaming of suspecting a dog. They have 
also in time of war conveyed letters in the 
same way." 

"It is curious how long dogs will re- 
member people," remarked Annie. " Sport 
always seems as glad to see father as any 
of us, though he is so seldom at home." 

"Ulysses' dog remembered him after he 
had been away twenty years," said Eich- 
ard, who was rather fond of a classical 
allusion. 



THE DOG. 321 



''He must have been an old dog," ob- 
served Miss Taylor. ''I do not think dogs 
in these days live so long." 

''jtsTot often," replied Miss Winston. 
" Twelve years is an old age for a dog, 
— though they have been known to reach 
twenty and even thirty years. It is true, 
as Annie says, that they have very long 
memories ; and instances have been known 
of their dying for joy at the return of an 
old friend. They are fond of displaying 
their gratitude, even to those who do them 
trifling services. At one time, while stay- 
ing in the city of R , I had to pass daily 

through a street in which was kept a very 
large and very ill-conditioned bull-dog, who 
was the terror of the whole neighbourhood. 
I am not a coward in such matters ; but I 
confess I was rather * startled one day, on 
passing down Spring Street, to see this 
dog, which was lying upon the pavement 
before his master's door, suddenly rise up 
and advance to meet me. I put on a bold 
face, however, as I noticed that the creature 
did not seem angry, and walked quietly on. 
As he came up, he put his great nose to my 
hand, in the usual style of dog-courting. 



322 THE DOG. 



and, when we arrived opposite the gate, 
made me understand that he wanted to be 
let in. I opened the gate for him, and he 
disappeared ; but always afterwards, when- 
ever I encountered him, he would always 
turn, and walk a few yards with me, and 
then, making his bow, return to his master. 
I presume you have all heard the anecdote 
of the dog whose leg was set by the 
surgeon?" 

^'I haven't," said Antoinette. "Please 
tell it, aunt." 

"A benevolent surgeon in the course of 
his walks found a small dog with one of his 
legs broken. He took it home and splin- 
tered the limb properly : the dog got well, 
and presently afterwards disappeared. Some 
months after, and when he had quite for- 
gotten the occurrence, on opening his door 
the surgeon found his former patient wait- 
ing for him, accompanied by another dog 
suffering from the same kind of injury. 
He testified the greatest joy at the sight of 
his benefactor, and made him clearly un- 
derstand that he wanted that dog's leg 
cured as his had been. The gentleman, 
greatly diverted at the new sort of practice 



THE DOG. 323 



upon which he seemed to have entered, 
cared for the sufferer, whose friend visited 
him daily, and, when the cure was com- 
pleted, took him away, after again express- 
ing his gratitude to the doctor." 

'' How do you suppose the dogs made 
each other understand?" asked Sidney. 

" That I cannot tell ; but it is certain 
that they do communicate wdth each other 
and concert plans of action. A gentleman 
from Devonport once took his setter dog 
to some place in the environs of London, 
when the animal was set upon by a watch- 
dog and rescued with much difficulty. A 
few days after his return home, he was 
missed, as well as a large house-dog, his 
favourite companion and playfellow, and 
was not seen again for some days, when 
both returned tired and much bitten, 
but evidently in the highest spirits. About 
the same time came a letter from the owner 
of the watch-dog in London, informing the 
owner of the setter that his animal, in com.- 
pany with another, had appeared, set upon 
the watch-dog and killed him, after which 
no more was seen of them. 

"It is this faculty of acting in concert 



324 THE DOG. 



. which makes the dogs of St. Bernard's 
Monastery so vakiable," continued Miss Win- 
ston. "This hospice is situated at the sum- 
mit of one of the most travelled passes of the 
Alps, and inhabited by a few monks, who 
spend thieir time in administering to the 
wants of travellers, and, in winter, in rescu- 
ing those unfortunates who are overtaken in 
the terrific snow-storms. In this good work 
they are much assisted by their great, dogs, 
wdio are sent out in pairs, one bearing a 
lantern, the other carrying a basket with 
wine and provision. Thus equipped, they 
patrol the roads ; and almost every year 
some lives are saved by their care. There 
are two races of these dogs, one closely re- 
sembling the Newfoundland, the other with 
close, short hair, usually grayish or lion- 
coloured. They are equally good-tempered, 
sagacious and persevering, and seem to pos- 
sess social qualities which would render 
them ornaments to society. In this they 
resemble the Newfoundland, — though they 
seem to have more vivacity. The Newfound- 
land dogs excel in swimming and diving, 
and have saved as many lives by water as 
the St. Bernard have by land. A New- 



THE DOG. 325 



foundland dog has been known to plunge 
into the water of his own accord to rescue a 
small cur, maliciously thrown in, which ap- 
peared to be in danger of drowning; and 
their services in case of shipwreck are well 
known. They are very large and hand- 
some; and their good temper and sagacious 
watchfulness make them excellent play- 
mates for children. 

" In the same group Colonel Smith places 
the shepherd dogs, which seem to me to 
manifest more intelligence than any other 
of the race. Some of them are very hand- 
some, — as the great Mexican sheep-dog, and 
that of the Pyrenees; and among the Scot- 
tish collies I have seen some of rare beauty. 
They learn to understand language almost 
as well as human beings, and obey their 
masters' directions in a way which is truly 
wonderful. One of these dogs at the word 
of command will single out all the sheep of 
a particular sort in a flock, drive them to- 
gether and bring them to his master : he 
will drive away all intruders upon the pas- 
ture, hunt up and bring home stray sheep 
and lambs in the darkest night, and will 
even carry young lambs in his mouth if 



326 THE DOG. 



they are unable to walk. They are apt 
to resent greatly any affront offered to 
theu^ charge, especially in the absence of 
the shepherd. Colonel Smith tells of a case 
in which the assault was committed by a 
tailor's dog, ' but not unremarked by the 
other, who immediately seized him, and, 
dragging the delinquent into a puddle, 
while holding his ear, kept dabbing him in 
the mud with exemplary gravity: the cur 
yelled ; the tailor came with his goose to the 
rescue, and, having flung it at the sheep-dog 
and missed him, stood by, not daring to fetch 
it back till the castigation was over and the 
dog had followed the flock.' 

" The Esquimaux dogs, so useful to the 
dwellers in the Arctic Circle, are placed in 
the same class. They do not seem to be 
remarkably companionable or agreeable ; 
but probably their social qualities might 
improve by cultivation. They are the most 
precious possession of the poor Esquimaux, 
whom they assist in the capture of the 
bear and in transporting their goods from 
place to place; and, in return, they are 
treated like members of the family. You 



THE DOG. 327 



will find many notices of them in the voyages 
and travels of modern times. 

" We come now to the hounds. This divi- 
sion includes the greyhounds, — which hunt 
entirely by sight, — the deer-hounds, blood- 
hounds and fox-hounds, — which depend 
upon their sharp scent, — and the spaniels, 
pointers and setters, with whose habits you 
are pretty well acquainted." 

''I never could see why they should be 
called greyhounds," said Antoinette. ''1 
am sure I have seen them of all colours 
besides gray, — even black ones." 

''The name is supposed to be derived, 
not from their colour, but from an ancient 
British word, Gresh or Gray^ a dog. They 
are very beautiful creatures, with long 
slender necks and heads, thin bodies, deep 
chests, and long slender legs. They are 
remarkable for their speed, and have been 
known to run twelve miles in eight minutes. 
In ancient times they were valued as in- 
signia of rank; and certain of the dignified 
clergy claimed the right of appearing at 
particular religious services with hawk on 
wrist and greyhound in leash." 

" Think of your father going to church in 



328 THE DOG. 



that style, Kate," said Annie, laughing, — 
" though, tO'be-sure, he did appear some- 
thing in the same way once when Don fol- 
lowed him into the desk." 

"Did he?" asked Matilda. 

"Yes," replied Kate ; "and father never 
knew he was there until Don began to howl 
along with the organ." 

"I have seen dogs which went regularly 
to church and behaved with great propriety 
when there," remarked Miss Taylor. "You, 
Mrs. Meredith, must remember Mrs. C.'s 
little Bruno, who used to attend evening ser- 
vice almost as regularly as his mistress. I 
have also read of a Scotch dog, who at- 
tended at a distant church with exemplary 
constancy, whether the family went or not, 
sitting with great gravity in his master's 
pew, and always appearing in time, — except 
once, when he was detained by a freshet 
which had swept away a bridge on his road 
and forced him to make a circuit. But to 
return to our greyhounds." 

"There are two varieties," continued 
Miss Winston, — " the smooth and the rough 
haired, both equally prized by the fanciers of 
these animals. The largest varieties are the 



THE DOG. 329 



Bedouin greyhoundj mentioned before, and 
the old Irish hound, a very noble dog, of 
which the breed is now nearly or quite ex- 
tinct. The greyhound is not remarkable 
for intelligence, and is mainly used in the 
noble English sport of hare-coursing, where 
twenty or thirty gentlemen, on fine horses, 
with huntsmen and a pack of these fleet 
dogs, spend their time and risk their necks 
in the pursuit of a poor, little, trembling, 
defenceless hare. Poor puss runs and 
doubles, and tries all her simple arts to 
escape her fearful enemies, — into whose jaws 
she is sure to fall sooner or later, — till her 
poor little beating heart sometimes bursts 
and she drops down dead." 

"A noble sport, truly!" said Eichard. 
" Almost equal to worrying cats or pulling 
off the wings of flies. But go on, aunt, if 
you please, and tell us about bloodhounds. 
Are they very furious ?" 

" ISTot unless they are made so by training, 
I believe," replied Miss Winston ; ^^but in 
this case, as in some others, the man has 
brutalized the beast. The British blood- 
hound is a large and fine-looking dog, with 
a grand head and a thoughtful, dignified 



330 THE DOG. 



expression of countenance. They hunt en- 
tirely by scent, and are very persevering, 
though slow. They have sometimes been 
employed to find lost children, and more 
frequently as instruments in the hands of 
tyranny to hunt out the refuge of those 
unfortunates who, from political, religious 
or other fanaticism, have been compelled to 
take refuge in swamps and forests from the 
cruelty and oppression of their fellow-crea- 
tures. Fox-hounds, beagles and hunters are 
all of the same race. But we must now pass 
to another, as our time is nearly used up. 

" The cur dogs are the last we shall 
notice. The term cur has been used as a 
term of reproach : it is in reality one of the 
oldest — if not the oldest — European name 
for the dog. In the list of cur dogs are ar- 
ranged, first, the terriers, — small, compact 
dogs, sometimes smooth and delicate, some- 
times very rough and shaggy, but always, 
brave, sagacious and high-spirited, possess- 
ing a peculiar instinct for destroying vermin 
of all sorts. Secondly, the mastiff, which 
we have already noticed. A very fine breed 
of these dogs is found in Thibet, where it 
is much valued for its watchfulness and 



THE DOO. 331 



faithfulness. Third, the bull-dogs, which 
are savage in disposition, but capable of 
the strongest attachment to their masters, 
possessed of indomitable courage and obsti- 
nacy, suffering themselves to be torn in 
pieces rather than relax their hold. They 
are chiefly used by those brutes in human 
shape who take pleasure in cock-fights, 
dog-fights and other similar amusements." 

^'Tell us some more stories, please, aunt," 
said Antoinette. " I could listen to you all 
night without being tired." 

" But you forget that I might be tired of 
telling," replied Miss Winston, smiling. ''I 
have exceeded our usual time already ; and, 
though there are plenty more anecdotes, 
even more amusing than those I have given 
you, yet I think these must sufiice for the 
present." 



332 JACK SHORT AGAIN. 



CHAPTER IX. 



WILD DOGS, JACKALS, AND HYENAS. 

Jack remained for some time sitting upon 
the step where Richard had left him, with 
his face hidden in his hands. He had, as it 
were, thrown away all his anger with the 
unfortunate slate ; and, now that his passion 
was over and his lately-acquired feelings 
began to regain possession of him, he felt 
very wretched. His mind ran over the 
length and breadth of his acquaintance with 
Richard, from the adventure with the kitten 
until now ; and he could not remember ever 
having received aught but good from him 
whom he had now narrow^ escaped killing 
in his blind and senseless rage. The circum- 
stances of his illness, his resolutions of refor- 
mation, his professions of gratitude to Rich- 
ard, passed in review before him ; and when 
to these was added the thought of the chance 



JACK SHORT. 333 



for improvement he had so wantonly thrown 
away, his reflections were bitter indeed. 

"It is no use trying to do any thing or be 
anybody," he said to himself: "every thing 
is against me." And then he began to con- 
sider whether any thing had been against 
him except his own petulance and impa- 
tience. He could not, now that he was cool, 
see that Richard had been in any way to 
blame. It was true he had positively pro- 
mised never to swear again, both when he 
was sick and at the commencement of the" 
lessons, when Richard had made it a condi- 
tion in their agreement ; and it was only kind 
in his friend to remind him of his promise 
when he saw him in danger of breaking it. 
He thought how he had said his prayers 
lately, and how he had talked to Sarah about 
saying her's ; and what a hypocrite he 
seemed to himself! "And yet I did mean 
to be a good boy," said poor Jack; " I am 
sure I did." 

Although the thought of his prayers 
seemed to give new fire to his self-reproach, 
it seemed, too, to bring a sort of comfort 
with it. Jack sat for some time longer, 
buried in thought ; and then, hastily and 



334 JACK SHORT. 



quietly rising, he went around the corner of 
the house and ascended to a sort of garret 
above the wood-house, where old planks, 
worn-out tools and other things little used 
or sought for were stowed away. 

It chanced that Mr. Short had occasion to 
go to this garret for something a short time 
afterwards; and his astonishment was great 
w^hen, on reaching the level of the floor, he 
beheld his son upon his knees in the corner. 
Jack started up in some confusion when he 
heard a step, and coloured crimson when he 
met his father's eye. It came to his lips at 
once to make a false excuse for his posi- 
tion ; but happily the temptation was re- 
sisted, and he was silent. 

^' Never mind, Jack," said his father, not 
unkindly. '^ No need to be ashamed of say- 
ing your prayers. It's those that don't say 
'em that have reason to be ashamed." He 
put his hand upon the boy's head, and 
added, still more gently, ^' I've seen lately 
that you've been trying to be abetter boy; 
and, though I haven't said much, it's done 
my heart good. I'm not what I ought to be 
myself; but I've got a father's feelings for 



JACK SHORT. 335 



you, sonny, and I should like first-rate to 
see you. grow up a good man." 

His father's kindness affected Jack greatly, 
— perhaps all the more because the expres- 
sion of it, at least, was rather unusual. He 
burst into tears, and sobbed, "- Oh, father ! 
I'm not a good boy, and I never shall be. I 
thought I should be once ; but " 

''But what?" asked his father, sitting 
down upon a box and drawing the boy to 
a seat by his side. '' Tell me all about it." 

An hour before. Jack would about as 
soon have thought of talking to the saw- 
mill as to his father ; but now the barrier 
seemed broken down that had always ex- 
isted between them, and he related the whole 
story, not trying to excuse himself in the 
least, but taking all the blame to his own 
share. His father listened, without any re- 
mark, till he had finished. 

" Well, my son," said he, at last, '' I am 
very sorry it has happened so, for more 
reasons than one : first, because the boy had 
taken a deal of pains to be kind to you, 
and then because the old gentleman has 
done so much for me. I have never had 
any thing but good of the family from first 



336 JACK SHORT. 



to last, and I am sorry to have any thing 
done that looks like being ungrateful. Just 
think! — if the slate had hit Dick and killed 
him or made him helpless for life ! But 
don't cry smy more," he added: ''there is 
no use crying for spilt milk. I suppose j^ou 
know what you've got to do next?" 

''What?" asked Jack, looking rather 
alarmed. 

" Go right off and ask Dick's forgive- 
ness," replied Mr. Short, with emphasis. 
" It is the only amends you can make that 
I know of, — though, if any other way turns 
up, I hope you won't be slow to avail your- 
self of it. But that is a thing you can do 
directly, — not to-night, perhaps, but the first 
thing in the morning." 

Jack hung his head. "I'm afraid he 
won't forgive me," he said; "and I am 
ashamed to look him in the face." 

"Don't look him in the face, then," re- 
turned Mr. Short. "Beg pardon first, and 
look him in the face afterwards. He a'n't 
the boy I take him for if he don't forgive 
you ; but whether he docs or not makes no 
difterence. Go up there the first thing after 
breakfast, and ask for Dick ; and then say, 



JACK SHORT. 337 



like a rnaiij ^Dick, I'm sorry/ That's what 
-youVe got to do." 

^'I believe you are right, father," said 
Jack, raising his head and looking as if a 
load were taken off his mind ; '' and I'll do 
it, too!" 

"There's a good fellow," returned his 
father, shaking hands with him. ''I am glad 
to see yon in earnest, sonny; and I tell you 
again that nothing does me so much good 
as to see you trying to do right. And, as 
to your schooling, don't fret too much about 
that. You shall go to school next winter 
if your mind is set on it ; and you can be 
learning all you can in the mean time." 

The next morning, as soon as he thought 
breakfast would be over, Jack put on his 
hat and marched resolutely up to The Mea- 
dows. As he passed through the gate he saw 
the deep dent made by the slate-frame, and 
shuddered at the thought it suggested ; but 
it only gave him new resolution, and he 
hurried on. He rather dreaded having to 
go to the house and ask for Richard; and it 
was with a feeling of relief that, as he came 
near, he saw him engaged in training a 
clematis-vine round the window of the 

29 



838 JACK^PIIORT. 



little log house. But then all the other 
children were there, and he did not like tor 
face them very well, — especially the girls, of 
whom, like most boys of his age and cir- 
cumstances, he was very much afraid. 
However, he put a bold face upon it, and, 
walking resolutely up to where Richard was 
at work, said, though in rather an unsteady 
voice, "Dick, I should like to speak to 
you, if you please." 

Richard turned, not a little astonished, 
and the other children exchanged glances 
of amazement, for Jack had never been in 
the habit of coming to The Meadows at any 
time, — which made his appearance now the 
more remarkable. 

"Master Richard is engaged," said Annie, 
with her haughtiest emphasis, before her 
brother had time to speak for himself. 

"Annie, for shame!" said Richard, in a 
low tone, and then, turning to Jack, asked, 
good-humouredly, "Is it any thing private, 
Jack?" 

" Yes, — no : — I may as well say it before 
folks. I'm very sorry, Dick. I have come 
to ask you to forgive me, and I hope you 
will; though " He stopped: his colour 



JACK SHORT. 839 



grew deeper and deeper, and he bit his 
lip. 

'^ Don't think any more about it/' said 
Eichard, all the small remains of his anger 
vanishing before Jack's voice and words. 
'' I was to blame, too, I dare say; but, at any 
rate, I am sure I forgive you, Jack." 

'^You are a good fellow." Jack could 
say no more. He turned and was going 
away, but Richard and Sidney stopped him. 
^'ITo, don't go so," said Sidney: ^^it isn't 
school-time yet. Stay and help us a little." 

"Help us, indeed !" said Annie, not in a 
very low tone. "Have you taken leave of 
your senses, Sidney?" 

"I think you have taken leave of your 
senses and your manners too, Annie," re- 
turned Sidney, indignantly, — and then, turn- 
ing to Jack, "Will you tell us about some- 
thing we want to do? We want to make 
a rustic seat, — something like this," (show- 
ing him a print in a book containing designs 
for all sorts of rustic work.) 

Jack had never seen any thing of the 
kind before, and looked at it with great in- 
terest. "I never saw any such," he said, 
finally; "but I should think it would be 



340 JACK SHORT. 



very pretty. I guess I could make it if I 
had the picture to look at. I love to tinker 
about such things." 

''I will ask grandfather if he will lend 
you the book," said Eichard. ^' There are 
a great many designs in it, and some of 
them are beautiful. And what about the 
lessons ?" he added, drawing him aside, (for 
he saw that the presence of the girls em- 
barrassed him.) '-Do you want to go on ?" 

" If you will, Dick, — if you are not afraid, 
and if you are not tired of trying to teach 
such a blockhead." 

''Oh, I am not afraid," replied Richard, 
smiling ; " and, as to your dulness, I don't 
believe it is your fault. We don't get started 
right, somehow. I mean to ask Miss Taylor 
about it. I will come up to-night, then, and 
bring the book, if grandfather says I may." 

Jack departed, with his heart much 
lighter than he had supposed it ever would 
be again, and Richard returned to his com- 
panions. He found Annie looking very 
angry. 

"So, Richard," she commenced, "you 
are going to take up that wicked boy again, 
are you, and bring him here as a com- 



A BAD SPIRIT. 341 



panion for us, too ? You can do as you 
please, I suppose ; you always do ; but you 
need not expect me to have any thing to say 
to him. I shall speak to grandfather about 
it," she added, growing more and more 
vexed as she went on, " and see whether he 
approves of your going on in this way." 

"As to that," replied Richard, "I shall 
speak to him myself; and I think I know 
what he will say. I never said any thing 
about his being a companion for you ; and 
I think you are unjust to him. If he had 
been so utterly bad he would never have 
come up here to own himself in the wrongs 
and beg pardon before you all, especially 
after you spoke as you did." 

"It is easy to say one has been wrong," 
said Annie. 

"Not so easy for some folks I know," 
interrupted Sidney. 

" But I see you are all against me," Annie 
continued, colouring more and more. "Kate 
thinks me a heathen, because I don't want 
my brother's life endangered by a wicked 
boy. I am all in the wrong, of course ; I 
always am so in your eyes ; but you need 
not expect me to agree to any such doings." 



342 A BAD SPIRIT. 



Annie turned and walked towards the 
house, leaving the party feeling verj^ uncom- 
fortably, — all but Matilda, who declared that 
she thought Annie just right and that she was 
glad to see her show so much sphit. An- 
toinette, who had lately learned to consider 
her cousin as a type of perfection, looked 
utterly amazed ; and Kate, though now 
used to her friend's moods, was very much 
grieved. 

"Don't speak to her just now," she said 
to the boj's, who were going to follow her. 
" She will get over it much sooner if she is 
icft to herself to think it over. I think we 
had better go in. lam sure it is school-tinie." 

It proved not to be school-time by a 
quarter of an hour; but the children did not 
feel in spirit for any more play, and seated 
themselves quietly at their books. Annie 
did not appear when the bell rung, but 
entered a few minutes after, her eyes red 
with crying, and took her place in silence. 
At recess she withdrew entirely from the 
others and busied herself in putting her 
desk in order; and, as soon as school was 
out, she was about leaving the room, but 
Miss Taylor called her back. 



A BAD SPIRIT. 343 



"I wish to know what the matter is/' she 
said. ''Have you been quarrelling?" 

"No, ma'am," replied Richard, simply. 

"I don't know what you call quarrelling," 
retorted Matilda. " I say you boys quar- 
relled with Annie and treated her shame- 
fully, all for the sake of a loafer that you 
had no business to speak to at all. If I 
were Annie I would tell grandfather." 

Annie did not look very well pleased 
with this defence of her cousin's; while 
Antoinette said, sharply, as usual, — 

"I do not see that it is any business of 
your's, Matilda." 

Miss Taylor now called upon Kate for a 
statement of the case ; and she gave it 
simply, without trying to favour any one. 
As Annie listened, she could not but allow 
that her friend's version was correct, and 
she was surprised to see how little ground 
she had for being so much hurt. She began 
to be as much mortified as she had before 
been vexed, and blushed scarlet when Miss 
Taylor said, — 

"I do not see, after all, Annie, what you 
had to complain of." 



344 SOUND ADVICE. 



"I haven't complained/' she replied, 
trying to speak indifferently. 

''Not in words, perhaps," Miss Taylor 
rejoined, " but your manner was certainlj^ 
somewhat martyr-like. I advise you to let 
the matter drop entirely," she continued, 
seeing Annie about to speak, " and try to 
do better in future." 

"I am sorry if I hurt Annie's feelings," 
said Eichard. ''I did not mean to do 
so^ I am sure. I did not like to have 
her speak so to Jack, just as he was trying 
so hard to make amends for doing wrong, 
because I thought it would discourage him. 
He did not intend any disrespect by calling 
me Dick." 

"Disrespect!" exclaimed Sidney : "he is 
ready to fall down and worship your very 
shadow." 

Miss Taylor smiled. 

" That would be a curious kind of ido- 
latry, Sidney. I presume, as you say, that 
Jack has a sufficient respect for his young 
teacher; and I think the course he has taken 
shows that he has the elements of a fine 
character." 

"It shows that he wants to get some- 



TEACHING OTHERS. 345 



thing out of Dick/' said Matilda, " evidently. 
He thinks it is a fine thing to have his 
schooling for nothing." 

'^ Even supposing your charitable conclu- 
sion to be the true one, Matilda, does it not 
show at least a desire of knowledge and 
self-improvement in him ? I am inclined 
to think that Richard will derive benefit 
from these lessons as well as bis pupil," she 
continued. ''We cannot always tell ex- 
actly what we know till we try to impart 
our knowledge to others. You have found 
that out, Kate, already, have you not?" 

"Yes, indeed," replied Kate, who had re- 
cently taken a class in Sunday-school. '-' I 
thought myself a pretty good Bible-scholar 
till I tried to explain to the children." 

" I suppose, then, you would recommend 
young ladies to teach district school by way 
of completing their education?" said Ma- 
tilda, scornfully. 

" I should think it a very good plan, cer- 
tainly, if they happened to be competent," 
replied Miss Taylor, smiling. "But, while 
we are talking, time is slipping away, and 
we shall have to make haste not to be late 
at dinner." 



346 OBSTINACY. 



Richard related all the circumstances of 
the affair to his grandfather, and received, 
as he had anticipated, full permission to go 
on with his lessons. Mr. Winston was 
pleased to hear of the interest Jack had 
taken in the book of designs, and allowed 
Richard to lend it to him, saying that if 
Jack succeeded in manufacturing a pretty 
rustic seat he would employ him to make 
some for the garden. Richard was very 
much pleased; for he had conceived a great 
interest in his pupil and thought him very 
hopeful. The only thing that now grieved 
him was the prejudice Annie had taken 
up, which prevented him from deriving any 
advantage from her co-operation, besides 
giving him an uncomfortable feeling of 
separation from his only sister. 

By night Annie seemed to have reco- 
vered her serenity, though, true to her cha- 
racter, she made not a word of acknow- 
ledgment, nor did she intimate that she 
thought she had been in the wrong, — thus 
making good Sidney's assertion " that it 
was not easy for some folks to own them- 
selves in the wrong." She took no notice 
of her brother's absence in the afternoon; 



r 



WILD DOGS. 347 



and when he announced on his return that 
Jack had mastered the difficult rule, she 
took pains to show by her manner that she 
considered it a matter of the least possible 
consequence. 

" What are we going to talk about this 
evening?'' asked Sidney, as they took their 
places for the evening's lecture. 

"The next on our list, properly speaking, 
are the different races of what are com- 
monly called wild dogs," replied Miss Win- 
ston ; " but, as little comparatively is known 
of them, we shall pass over them rapidly 
and come to the jackals, foxes and hyenas, 
which last form the concluding group in 
the canine family. Of the wild dogs there 
seem to be many varieties, all bearing a small 
resemblance to each other, and readily re- 
ferable to the same class of animals. They 
are all reddish in colour, which occasions 
them to be classed together under the 
general name of red dogs ; they want the 
second cheek-tooth in the lower jaw, the 
soles of their feet are hair}^, and the eyes 
placed more or less obliquely, with round 
pupils. They do not burrow, but live 
very retired in jungles and forests, and 



348 WILD DOGS. 



assemble together for purposes of assistance 
and defence, each one being ready to do 
battle for his comrades. They have a 
barking note, and hunt together by day 
and by night, attacking not only the more 
timid animals, such as the deer and ante- 
lope, but the wild boar, the buffalo, and 
the tiger himself. Indeed, the latter seems 
to be the object of their especial aversion: 
they destroy the cubs whenever they can 
find them; and the tiger has such a dread 
of them that he is often alarmed even at the 
sight of a tame spaniel. They are ordi- 
narily inoffensive to man, if unmolested ; 
but it is almost impossible to tame them, 
even if taken quite young, — though in one 
or two instances the experiment has par- 
tially succeeded, and in those cases they 
have appeared quite as intelligent as the 
tame dogs with which they have been 
compared. There are several varieties of 
the animal in India. They extend from 
China to the borders of Persia, and are 
found in some places in considerable num- 
bers ; but they are so shy, and at the same 
time so fierce, that little is known of them 
except their names. A very dangerous 



WILD DOGS. 349 



animal of this kind sometimes follows the 
caravans from Bassora to Aleppo. The 
Arabs call it Shab, and stand in great fear 
of it, asserting that its bite is invariably 
fatal. Authors have attempted to account 
for this fact by supposing the creatures to be 
mad ; but, as animals in a state of hydro- 
phobia are never known to associate to- 
gether, this does not seem a very probable 
solution. The bite of all the wild canines 
is very severe and dangerous, owing to their 
great strength, the sharpness of their teeth 
and the pertinacity with which they retain 
their hold." 

''All dogs are dangerous," pronounced 
Matilda, half aside, to Sidney, who was play- 
ing with little Bruno's ears. "You never 
know when they will get mad." 

" That is the case with some other things 
besides dogs," replied Sidney, mischievously. 
Matilda turned to her work again with the 
air of injured innocence which she always 
assumed when any of her speeches were 
repaid in kind. 

" There are several races of wild dogs in- 
habiting the islands of the Indian Ocean," 
continued Miss Louisa, — "one of which 

30 



350 WILD DOGS. 



seems to be very little larger than a large 
cat. Africa has also its wild dog, which 
commits great ravages among the sheep. 
The dingo of Australia has become better 
known than any of the others. Like the 
wild dog of Africa, it is very destructive to 
sheep, and destroys many hundreds of them, 
seemingly in mere wantonness, as it always 
kills many more than it can possibly eat. 
They hunt not in such large packs as the 
dholes of India, but in pairs, or in com- 
panies of five or six. Probablj^ the parents 
and their offspring keep together, as we 
have seen in the case of the wolves. Ac- 
counts differ as to their courage. Mr. 
Howitt, who spent much time in Australia, 
seems to consider them cowardly animals ; 
while Colonel Smith speaks of them as 
being both brave and fierce, and mentions 
one kept at Paris, in the Jardin des Plantes, 
which would always fly fiercely at a cage 
containing a panther or a bear. Mr. Oxley, 
Surveyor-General of 'New South Wales, tells 
an anecdote which seems to show that these 
poor animals possess the strongest feeling 
of mutual attachment. He says in his jour- 
nal, ^ About two weeks ago we killed a 



WILD DOGS. 351 



native dog and threw Ms hodj upon a small 
bush. On returning past the same spot to- 
day, we found the body removed three or 
four yards from the bush, and the female, in 
a dying state, lying beside it : she had ap- 
parently been there from the day the dog 
was killed, being so weakened and emaci- 
ated as to be unable to move at our approach. 
It was deemed mercy to despatch her.' " . 

"Poor thing!" said Antoinette. "I 
should think they would have tried to feed 
her and bring her to life." 

" She might have been too far gone," ob- 
served Richard ; " or she may have refused 
to eat : most likely she would, as she had 
starved herself of her own accord to watch 
her companion. I think, as the man says, 
it was a mercy to kill her, — though I should 
not have liked to be the one to do it." 

"How wonderfully sentimental I" said 
Matilda, with her usual sneer. Daisy looked 
indignantly at her, but Richard only smiled : 
he had learned to care very little for Miss 
Meredith's speeches. " Are there any wild 
dogs in America?" he asked. "I do not 
remember to have heard of any." 

" None in North America, — unless we con- 



352 PRAIRIE-WOLVES. 



sicler, as some authors do, the prairie-wolves 
and the Mexican coyotte as representatives 
of the family ; and they seem to me too de- 
cidedly wolfish in their aspect to be consi- 
dered as any thing but wolves. In South 
America their place is occupied by the 
hyena wolves, which seem to be interme- 
diate between the red dog group and the 
hyena. In their habits thej^ seem to re- 
semble jackals rather than dogs, though 
thej^ are much more gentle in their disposi- 
tions, and may be trained so as to accom- 
pany their master in the chase ; but, should 
the game be scarce or not to their liking, 
they will leave him and return home. Both 
tame and wild ones have a crow-like pro- 
pensity to steal and hide things which can 
be of no manner of use to them, such as 
canes, silk handkerchiefs, and bright-co- 
loured articles in general. In a wild state 
they seem to be dumb, but, when tamed, 
learn to bark feebly and, as it were, imper- 
fectly. They subsist, like other canines, 
upon flesh, but devour also fish, crabs, toads, 
serpents and insects. When domesticated, 
they will join in the jaguar-hunt with great 
eagerness, but do not seem to have that in- 



JACKALS. 353 



nate hostility towards him which the canines 
of the Old World show towards the tiger. 

"We next come to the jackals, so w^ell 
known to all travellers in the East and to 
all readers of their books. The jackals are 
a group of nocturnal or crepuscular ani- 
mals.'' 

"What is the meaning of crepuscular?" 
asked Daisy. 

" It means twilight, and is a word applied 
to such animals as rove abroad and seek 
their prey by twilight, either of morning or 
evening. Thus, some moths are called cre- 
puscular, because they never fly during day- 
light or after dark. The jackal comes 
abroad just about the dusk of the evening 
and continues hunting the whole night, de- 
vouring every thing that comes in his way, 
entering towns and villages to feast upon 
the ofial thrown into the streets, robbing 
hen-roosts and ill-secured storehouses, dig- 
ging up graves that are not well guarded, 
and entering the vineyards to feast upon 
the grapes as soon as they begin to ripen. 
But their voices cause much more annoy- 
ance to those in their neighbourhood even 
than their thievish habits. It is a melan- 



354 JACKALS. 



choly sound, ranging in character from a 
single sharp yelp to a shrill prolonged cry, 
repeated in every variety of pitch, and min- 
gled with short dismal moans and whin- 
ings as of a person in the utmost distress. 
They are never silent an instant from sunset 
to sunrise; and, as there are often more than 
two hundred in one pack, the uproar may 
be more easily imagined than described. 
Sometimes a single jackal may be heard to 
utter a sharp warning cry, which is not re- 
peated by the others : this is an unerring 
signal that a tiger is in the neighbourhood. 
The watchmen of a gentleman residing at 
Cawnpore were once attracted by this cry, 
and, creeping cautiously along, under the wall 
of the compound or court, towards the spot 
whence the cry proceeded, they peeped over, 
but beat a hasty retreat upon finding them- 
selves face to face with an enormous tiger, 
who was standing with one paw uplifted, 
evidently in an attitude of great attention. 
They got off safely, and heard no more of 
him ; but the next morning his tracks were 
plainly to be seen. The jackal spends 
the day concealed among rocks and thick 
jungly coverts, or in burrows, which are 



JACKALS. 355 



inhabited by large communities together. 
The hyena and the Indian wolf are their 
occasional guests ; and they seem to live in 
great harmony. "When one jackal is at- 
tacked, the others if possible assist him. If 
brought to bay, they fight desperately ; and 
their bite is very severe. When fairly over- 
powered, thej pretend to be dead ; and then 
nothing will make them move except throw- 
ing them into the water, when they recover 
their senses and attempt to swim. The 
jackal may be tamed, and will follow his 
master and show considerable afiection for 
him, but never becomes very tractable; and 
he has besides, like the wolf, a very offensive 
smell, even when fed wholly upon vegetable 
diet. This was not the case, however, with 
a specimen which was brought from Madras 
by Mr. Bennett. It was at first very wild 
and fierce, but became perfectly tame, and 
manifested its affection for its master in the 
same manner as a dog, by wagging its tail, 
frisking, whining and licking the hand. It 
recognised Mr. Bennett by his voice after a 
long absence, and manifested the greatest 
joy at meeting him." 

" How large is the jackal ?" asked Annie. 



356 FOXES. 

'' They are generally about fifteen inclies 
high at the shoulder, but are somewhat long 
in proportion. They have a long pointed 
muzzle, furnished with whiskers, small eyes, 
large ears, and a moderately long tail, co- 
vered with hairs, like that of the fox. They 
are light and active, and quite swift of foot. 
Their colours are different shades of reddish 
and buff, mixed with grizzled white or buff 
hairs." 

" 'Now for foxes !" said Richard. "They 
are classical animals, as well as dogs and 
wolves." 

''Yes: they have been celebrated in song 
and story since the days of Esop," said Miss 
Winston. " Thej are frequently mentioned 
in Holy Scripture, and once in away which 
puts us in mind of the fox who philosophized 
about the inaccessible grapes. The passage 
occurs in Canticles ii. 15 : — ' Take us the 
foxes, the little foxes that spoil the grapes, 
for our vines have tender grapes.' " 

"I remember that now," said Annie; 
"but I have always thought that the fond- 
ness of the fox for the grapes was a flight 
of fancy on the part of Esop." 

"By no means," replied Miss Winston. 



FOXES. 357 



"Poxes ill the East Indies are particularly 
fond of grapes, and, like the jackals, do 
much damage in the vineyards. Authors 
attribute the same taste to the common fox." 

" They call some kinds of wild grapes fox- 
grapes," said Sidney; "but I do not know 
whether it is because foxes eat them." 

"JSTor I; but perhaps it may be. The fox 
is the smallest of the canines, except the 
fenner and yuda of Africa. He is low in 
proportion to his length, having a sharp and 
long nose and a particular expression of 
intelligence or rather cunning. His neck is 
rather short, his limbs slender, and his tail, 
which is long in proportion to his body, is 
well covered with long hairs, which form a 
round bunch. The tail of a fox is usually 
called hi« brush. They have a fine thick 
and glossy fur, and, like the wolves, leave a 
strong odour behind them : they burrow in 
the ground, and never willingly come forth 
except at night. But the principal feature 
which distinguishes them from the dog is 
the pupil of the eye, which, when turned 
towards a strong light, contracts vertically, 
-like a cat's, instead of being round like a 
dog's." 



358 THE FOX. 



'^ "What is verticall}^ ?" asked Daisy. 

" Vertically means straight up and down : 
the side of the window is vertical to the sill^ 
but the sill is horizontal." 

''Little girls should not interrupt or even 
ask questions," said Matilda. 

" When little girls are at their lessons, or 
when any one is talking to them especially," 
observed Miss AYinston, ''they should ask 
the meaning of words which they do not 
understand, as Daisy did just now; but I 
agree with you, Matilda, that it is imperti- 
nent for little girls or large girls to interrupt 
their elders when engaged in conversation, 
— as much so as for them to assume an au- 
thority over their companions which does 
not belong to them." 

Matilda coloured, and for once was si- 
lenced. 

"Is the fox really as cunning as he has 
the credit of being?" asked Miss Taylor. 

"They are Yevj sly and cautious," said 
Miss Winston, "and practice many strata- 
gems whereby to save their lives and en- 
snare their prey. Their senses are extremely 
acute, — especially those of seeing and hear- 
ing. Though generally shy, and never 



THE FOX. oOi: 



facing an enemy if they can help it, they 
have both courage and fortitude, and, when 
caught in a trap by the paw, have been 
known to gnaw the member oiF rather than 
be taken. They subsist upon birds and 
game of all sorts, eggs, rats and mice, and 
almost any thing of an animal kind, and, as 
we have seen, they will also eat fruit; but 
their favourite food is poultry, and thej^ will 
run almost any risk to obtain it. It is a 
little singular, but quite consistent with 
their character, that in captivity they will 
hardly ever touch poultry, even when it 
comes in their way." 

"I had a tame fox once," said Sidney, 
" but he got away after a while. I think 
they are apt to get away." 

" Yes : they are impatient of captivity 
and are always trying to escape. They are 
playful when young, and have many curious 
ways. They breed only once in the year, 
and have five or six cubs, which thej^ nou- 
rish with the greatest afiection : a female 
fox has even been known to steal a puppj' 
and bring it up as her own. They have 
more intonations of voice than almost any 
other animal, — yelping and barking, mur- 



3G0 THE FOX. 



muriDg when pleased, and sometimes 
screaming like a peacock. The general co- 
lour inclines to red; but there are gray, 
black and white varieties. There is a great 
resemblance among the different species, 
which makes it very difficult to classify 
them accurately. The Arctic fox, like many 
other Northern animals, is pure white in 
winter, turns speckled as warm weather ap- 
proaches, and during the short summer is 
brown, gray or bluish. It is caught in 
traps and used for food, but his flesh is not 
very agreeable. They are more social than 
other foxes, and are known to make large 
burrows, deep and warmly lined with moss, 
in which twenty cubs are sometimes found 
together. They are not so distrustful as the 
red fox, but are very sagacious, and excel- 
lent swimmers. 

" The common red fox is found abun- 
dantly both in Europe and America. It is 
about two feet nine inches long, one foot 
three inches in height, and the tail is one 
foot three inches. Thc}^ are reddish or yel- 
lowish in colour, with white cheeks, lips 
and throat. The breast and belly are usu- 
ally white, and the tip of the tail almost 



I 



THE FOX. 861 



invariably white. For some unknown rea- 
son, the fox is apt to pull out this white tip. 
Like the other foxes, they are patient and 
cunning, and show an extraordinary degree 
of sagacit}^ in escaping from their enemies. 
They are very destructive to game and 
poultry, and in this countrj^ are destroyed 
without mercy. In England they are hunted 
by dogs and men on horseback. The fox- 
chase is considered one of the most exciting 
of British sports; and large packs of hounds 
and stables of fine horses are kept up at an 
immense expense for this purpose. Some- 
times lives are lost and manv valuable 
horses are killed or ruined in these exercises. 
The poor fox, upon his part, has every thing 
to contend with. Sometimes he makes his 
escape in spite of all; and it is said that the 
foxes of England, from being so frequently 
hunted, become wonderfully sagacious. A 
story is told of one near Reading which 
had been partly tamed and taught to turn 
a spit by means of a wheel. As usual, he 
escaped after a time, and resumed his wild 
habits ; but one day, being hard pressed by 
the hounds, and seeing the door of his old 
kitchen open, be sprang in, took his place 



362 Tin: FOX. 



at the wheel and began turning it with all his 
might. The stratagem was successful, and 
he escaped the dogs. Another one sprang 
into a window and took refuge under the 
chair of a gentleman, who was so much 
pleased with the mark of confidence that 
he would not allow his guest to be dis- 
turbed. 

" The black fox of Northern Asia and 
the silver fox of America are very much 
valued for their fur. That of the first-men- 
tioned is entirely deep glossy black, wdiile 
that of the latter has a silvery grizzle upon 
the forehead and flanks, and occasionally 
there is a white spot upon the heart. They 
are extremely rare. 

''The dog-foxes, andthefennecsoryerdas, 
more properly come in between the jackals 
and the true foxes ; and the former may be 
considered as jackals with long tails, or 
foxes with diurnal eyes. The dog-fox is, 
generally speaking, no lai^ger than the true 
fox ; they possess the same brush tail and 
the same oflensive odour ; like the jackals, 
they hunt in packs and form common bur- 
rows ; they feed upon birds and birds' eggs, 
and store up the residue of their food by 



I 

I 



i 



THE FOX. 363 



burying it. They are very cunning and are 
seldom taken. The corresponding group 
in the 'New World are the hyena foxes, 
inhabiting South America, of which very 
little seems to be known. 

''Last of all the foxes comes the fennec 
oryerda, which is the very smallest of the 
canines, the fennec of Bruce being only 
about sixteen inches long, and a foot high 
at the shoulder. The head is only about 
three and a half inches long, — which is just 
the length of the ears : consequently the 
latter look disproportionably large w^hen 
compared with the size of the body. The 
ears are very wide and open, slightly pointed, 
and covered on the outside with cream-co- 
loured fur. The inside of the ear is naked, 
except a border of white fur, and is of a 
pinkish colour. The rest of the body re- 
sembles that of a fox, and is covered with 
cream-coloured fur. The soles of the feet 
are covered with woolly hair, which renders 
the animal's step quite noiseless. The Caama 
fennec is a little larger and has gray fur. It 
watches birds and f)reys upon the eggs of 
such as lay upon the ground, thus occasion- 
ing much trouble to the poor ostriches, 



364 THE HYENA. 



which keep a constant look-out for it as soon 
as the laying-season commences. When it 
finds an ostrich-egg which it is unable to 
open, it rolls the egg along the ground till 
it encounters a stone large enough to break 
it. Bruce says they climb trees, — which 
seems to be a mistake on his part, as they 
are entirely unadapted to any such purpose. 
He kept one in a cage a long time, and 
states that its principal food was dates and 
sweet fruits, though it never refused eggs, 
and took great pleasure in watching birds. 
It was much alarmed at the approach of the 
cat, and tried to hide itself, but made no 
attempt at self-defence. It w^as very impa- 
tient of confinement, and constantlj^ endea- 
voured to escape ; and its teeth were so 
sharp that it was very difficult to keep it 
in any cage. It seems to be a pretty and 
cleanly little animal ; and its face has an ex- 
pression of much intelligence and pene- 
tration. 

'' ~We now come to the hyena, which is 
one of the ugliest and most repulsive in his 
appearance of any of the carnivora; and it 
seems, from the accounts of those who have 
had a familiar acquaintance with him, that his 




The Hyena. 



p. S64. 



THE HYENA. 365 



habits do not misrepresent his exterior. He 
has a large and clumsy head, set on a stiff*, 
short neck ; his body is high before and low 
behind, and his hair, when he has any, is stiff" 
and coarse, with a bristly mane running 
along the ridge of the backbone ; a short 
stiff tail and an awkward gait. Add to 
these characteristics his malignant blue eyes, 
with their pupils elliptical above and round 
below, and gleaming in the dark like sul- 
phur-flames, his unspeakably filthy habits 
and his horrible voice, and you have the 
picture of as hateful an animal as can well 
be imagined." 

"I should think as much !" said Sidney. 

^^ And yet," observed Annie, '^I saw one 
that did seem at least to be good-natured. 
Don't you remember, Richard ? — the one that 
fed the bear?" 

''What was that?" asked Miss Winston. 

"It was while you were gone to New York 
last summer," replied Annie. ''Grand- 
father took us all to the menagerie at the 
village, in which was a cage containing two 
leopards, a bear and two hyenas. They all 
seemed on good terms enough ; but the bear, 
who was chained up at the back of the 



366 THE HYENA. 



cage, bad formed a wonderful friendship with 
one of the hyenas. A good many cakes 
were thrown to them by the people, of 
which the bear hardly got his share; but we 
noticed that whenever the hyena secured a 
cake he always broke it in two and gave 
half to his friend. We saw him do it a 
number of times; and, though he certainly 
was not pretty to look at, I took quite a 
liking to him." 

'' They have several times been tamed so 
as to take pleasure in their master's caresses 
and evince much joy at his presence," re- 
marked Miss Louisa; '' and, indeed, they do 
not generally attack man from choice, 
though they do not hesitate to do it in self- 
defence, even when the man is mounted 
and well armed. They devour every thing 
that comes in their way, whether fresh or 
putrid; and, like the wolf and jackal, they 
are especially prone to wander in burial- 
places and dig up the dead. Various won- 
ders used to be related of them in the days 
of antiquity,:r— as that they could change their 
form and colour at will and that they pos- 
sessed the power of imitating the human 
voice. It was said that the hyena used to 



THE HYENA. 367 



listen about the shepherds' huts till it knew 
their names, and then, going in the night 
to their doors, it would call them out and 
devour them. They were reported to have 
but one bone in the neck, and to have their 
jaws filled with one continued tooth. A 
certain race of African smiths and iron- 
workers are still believed to have the power 
of changing themselves into hyenas at plea- 
sure, and of performing in that shape all 
the wonders attributed in Europe to the 
wehr-wolf!" 

^^How curious such superstitions are!" 
remarked Antoinette. ^'I love to hear 
about them." 

^' Yes: they are indeed very singular and 
interesting; and you will find, upon exami- 
nation, that there is almost always some- 
thing to make them of. Thus the stories 
about the hyena may be accounted for, — 
the imitation of the human voice by the 
strange and unearthly sounds it produces, 
which would sometimes make one think it 
was trying to speak; the one immense tooth 
seemed to account for its enormous power 
of breaking and crushing the largest and 
hardest bones ; and, as in these violent efibrts 



368 THE HYENA. 



the bones of the neck are often injured and 
grow together, the story arose that the hyena 
had but one bone in its neck." 

"And about its changing its colours?" 
asked Annie. "What should that arise 
from?" 

" There is actually a wild canine in Africa, 
allied both to the dhole and the hyena, in 
which not only is there a great difference in 
different individuals, but the same indivi- 
dual differs greatly in his colours at different 
times of the year. This is the lycaon of 
ancient and modern authors, and the wilde 
honde of the Dutch colonists. The Cape va- 
riety — lycaon venaticus — is equal in stature 
to a tall greyhound, and stands very high 
on his legs. His head is broad and flat, 
with a blunt nose and very large ears ; the 
neck, straight and stiff*, resembles the 
hyena's, and, like his, is furnished with a 
mane of stiff* hairs. The colour is gene- 
rally yellowish, with white spots and black 
bands curiously dispersed and difi*ering in 
almost every individual. Lycaons associate 
in packs and commit great depredations 
upon sheep : they seldom attack larger cat- 
tle, and when they do they invariabl}^ bite 



THE HYENA. 369 



0& their tails. It would seem, from some 
of Bruce's anecdotes, that the hyena has the 
same curious habits. Attempts have re- 
peatedly been made to tame the lycaon, but 
without success. The Scotch traveller 
Brace, who discovered the fountains of the 
Nile, and who resided a long time in Abys- 
sinia, tells many stories of these animals. I 
w^ill read you his account. He says, — 

" ' I do not think there is any that hath 
hitherto written of these animals who ever 
saw the thousandth part of them that I 
have. They were a plague in Abyssinia in 
every situation, both in the city and the field, 
and, I think, surpassed the sheep in number. 
Gondar was full of them from the time it 
turned dark till the dawn of day, seeking 
the different pieces of slaughtered carcasses, 
which this cruel and unclean people expose 
in the streets without burial, and who 
firmly believe that these animals are Talassa 
from the neighbouring mountains, trans- 
formed by magic and come down to eat 
human flesh in the dark with safety. Many 
a time in the night, when the king hath 
kept me late at the palace, and it was not 
my duty to lie there, in going across the 



370 THE HYENA. 



square from the king's house, not many 
hundred yards distant, have I been appre- 
hensive that they would bite me in the leg. 
They growled in great numbers about me, 
though I was surrounded by several armed 
men, who seldom passed a night without 
slaughtering several of them. 

" ' One night at Maitcha, being very intent 
upon observations, I heard something pass 
behind me towards the bed, but, on look- 
ing round, could perceive nothing. Having 
finished what I was then about, I went out 
of my tent, intending directly to return, 
which I immediately did, — when I observed 
large blue eyes glaring at me in the dark. 
I called upon my servant for a light; and 
there was the hyena standing near the 
head of the bed, with two or three large 
bunches of candles in his mouth. To have 
fired at him, I was in danger of breaking 
up my quadrant or other furniture; and he 
seemed, by holding the candles steady in his 
mouth, to wish for no other prey at that 
time. As his mouth was full and he had 
no ciaw^s to tear with, I was not afraid of 
him, but with a pike struck him as near the 
heart as I could judge. It was not till then 



THE HYENA. 371 



that he showed any signs of fierceness, but 
upon feeling the wound he let drop the 
candles and endeavoured to run up the shaft 
of the pike to arrive at me, so that in self-de- 
fence I was obliged to draw out a pistol and 
shoot him ; and nearl}^ at the same time my 
servant cleft his head with a little axe. In 
a word, the hyena was the plague of our 
lives, the terror of our nightly walks, the 
destruction of our mules and asses, which 
above all are his favourite food.* 

'^ The hyena, like the jackal, feeds upon 
the food left by the lion, as he does upon 
any carrion whatever ; and in this way has 
probably arisen the story of his being (as 
well as- the jackal) the lion's provider. It 
is said that the lion punishes very severely 
any interference of the hyena with his 
game, even biting off the feet of the mise- 
rable animal and leaving it to a lingering 
death. Dr. Livingstone witnessed an in- 
stance of this kind." 

''How many varieties of the hyena are 
there?" asked Annie. ''I do not remem- 
ber to have seen any but the spotted and 
striped." 

''There is also the naked hyena, which 



372 THE HYENA. 



has no hair except that of the mane on his 
back. It is a small animal, and the skin 
is of a purplish colour. There is also the 
brown hyena, and the stained hyena, of 
which the colours are pale yellowish brown 
with black spots and stripes. It is smaller 
than the other varieties, but is exceedingly 
destructive to sheep. Like the other hyenas, 
it is most active at night, and rejoices in 
' rainy and stormy weather. A small hyena, 
not larger than a fox, has been shot in Caf- 
fraria, but very little is known of its habits. 
"At present the race of hyenas is con- 
fined to the warm regions in or near the 
tropics; but geology shows us clearly that 
there w^as a time when these animals were 
spread over nearly the whole earth. The 
remains of grea^ animals of the cat kind and 
of bears are also found ; but they are very 
few in number compared to those of hyenas. 
They were the companions of the great mas- 
todons, elephants, tapirs, and other immense 
quadrupeds which roamed over the earth at 
that period, and the bones of which bear the 
marks of their powerful teeth. G-reat num- 
bers of hyenas' bones are found in Eng- 
land." 



DOGS. 373 

^' And so ends our course upon dogs," ob- 
served Richard, as Miss Winston concluded. 
'^ After all, aunt, taking out the domestic 
dogs, I do not see that the canines are any 
better than the felines." 

"You must admit that to be a large 
'take out,' " replied Miss Winston, smiling. 
" But omitting, as you say, the domestic 
dogs, I do not think the wild canine races 
compare in beauty or sagacity with the 
feline. Their fur is generally coarse and 
harsh, their figures in most cases far from 
beautiful ; and their habit of devouring car- 
rion, and the horrible odour which belongs 
to most of them, conspire to render them 
particularly repulsive. Nor do they appear 
to have the advantage of the cats in dispo- 
sition and temper. The great Felidse sel- 
dom kill more than they wish to eat at 
once; and as thej are for the most part very 
cleanly in their manner of feeding, and, 
unless forced by hunger, do not usually 
devour putrid substances, they have no 
object in a wholesale destruction ; while the 
wolf, the wild dog, and the hyena seem 
alike to rejoice in slaughter for its own sake, 
and, if they fall upon a flock of sheep or 

32 



374 Doas. 

other defenceless creatures, destroy many 
more than they can either eat or conceal, i 
"We may perhaps set off against this cir- ; 
cumstance that most of the canines are 
more or less social, and some of the most 
repulsive of them are very ready to fight 
each others' battles and will rescue a cap- 
tured companion at the risk of their own 
lives." 

''Do you really think. Aunt Louisa," 
said Antoinette, " that dogs have done 
more good than harm ?" 

"What harm have they done?" asked 
Annie. 

''I presume Antoinette is thinking of 
that dreadful disease, hydrophobia," said 
Miss Winston. " It is indeed a horrible 
malady; but it is comparatively rare. I 
suppose the race of St. Bernard dogs alone 
have saved more lives than ever were lost 
by hydrophobia; and when you add the 
Newfoundland dogs and consider the services 
of the shepherd dogs and the great watch- 
dogs, not to mention the diflerent races of 
hunters, I think the good decidedly over- 
balances the evil." 



THE BEARS. 375 



CHAPTER X. 

THE BEARS. 

^'This will be almost the last lecture," 
said Sidney, soberly, as they seated them- 
selves after tea in the usual order. 

'' Quite the last, won't it V asked Antoin- 
ette. 

'' No ; or, at least, I hope not. We shall 
not go to school till a week from to-day; 
and Aunt Louisa says she hopes she will 
find time for at least one more. Oh, dear!'' 
(and Sidney drew a deep sigh :) '^ I wish we 
were not going, or else that we could go 
and stay too." 

^'But I thought you wanted to go?" re- 
marked Antoinette. 

^' Of course he wants to go!" said 
Matilda. '' You don't suppose that he and 
Richard are always going to be tied up with 
a parcel of girls, do you ?" 



376 COMPARISONS. 



" I don't know what you mean by being 
tied np, Matilda," said Annie, with spirit. 
"I am sure they are not confined to the 
society of girls any more than they want 
to be ; and I don't believe they consider 
us such terrible bores as you seem to ima- 
gine." 

''To-be-sure," said Matilda, ''you are 
more like boj^s than girls, — in some things, I 
mean," she hastened to add, seeing that 
Annie's colour rose and even Kate looked 
a little oflfended. "I didn't mean to aflfront 
you, Annie: so you need not look so dis- 
turbed. But I never saw any girls before 
who ran races, and took long walks in all 
sorts of places, and whittled and did all such 
things, and that liked it, too. And that is 
what I mean b}^ saying that you are more 
like boys than girls." 

" "Well," said Kate, " and what harm is it 
if we do ? I am sure we know how to do 
other things. Annie can sew better than 
you or Antoinette, and she is not behind 
you in her lessons; and I am sure she is a 
great deal stronger and healthier." 

"And twenty times more agreeable," said 
Sidney to himself. But he added, aloud, 



COMPARISONS. 377 



" Confess now, Matilda, don't you think it 
is very good fun to take walks and run 
races and so on? — better fun than it is to 
sit still in the house all day and only take 
a stiff walk in the street, just for exercise ?" 

"I didn't at first," said Matilda. ^' I 
thought it was awfully stupid living in the 
country, and used to wish myself back 
twenty times a day. But now I like it 
better; though, to tell you the truth, Sid- 
ney, taking the year round, I shall always 
like the city best." 

''I don't," said Antoinette. ^'I should 
like to stay here forever." 

^'Forever is a long day," remarked Kate, 
smiling. 

" You had better tell mother so when she 
comes back, and get her to leave you," said 
Matilda, tossing her head in her usual 
fashion. "I dare say she would be willing 
to do so if she knew how much you prefer 
any society to her's. I am sure we could 
do without you at home well enough." 

Six weeks before, this not very kind 
speech would have brought on a snip-snap- 
ping contest between the sisters an hour 
long ; but Antoinette, with all her other 

32* 



378 A PRESENT. 



acqiiirementSj was learning forbearance, and, 
though she looked hurt, she held her peace. 
Matilda would have gone on to provoke 
her still further, but was happily diverted by 
the appearance of Richard, who came in 
carrying something very carefully in both 
hands. 

" What in the world have you got there ?" 
asked Annie. 

Richard set his burden down and un- 
covered it. It proved to be a small work- 
table, with a drawer and lid, made of black 
walnut and beautifully polished. It was 
fitted with a lock and key ; and on the top 
of the lid w^as an L inlaid in curled maple 
and surrounded with a pretty and ingenious 
border of the same. It w^as really a very 
elegant and tasteful affair. 

"Where is Aunt Louisa?" said Richard, 
as the children crowded around: ''it is her 
property. Aunt Louisa, here is a present a 
young gentleman sent you." 

" A present for me ?" said Miss Winston, 
wonderingly; ''and from a young gentle- 
man? What a beautiful work-table!" she 
continued, as she examined it. "It is just 
what I have always been wanting; but I 



A PRESENT. 379 



cannot imagine who can have sent it. Are 
you sure it is for me?" 

" The gentleman gave it to me for you/' 
said Richard; ''and, besides, there is your 
letter on the top. He brought it himself 
as far as the gate ; but I could not persuade 
him to come in. He said he was afraid." 

"I know!" exclaimed Sidney, triumph- 
antly. ''I know who made it I — the one 
that cut out your winders, aunt, and built 
our rustic seat, — Jack Short." 

''Pshaw!" said Matilda: "no wonder 
we could not guess when Dick called him 
a gentleman. Gentleman, indeed !" She 
looked at Annie as she spoke ; but Annie 
was looking another way. 

"You do not mean to say that Jack made 
this beautiful table?" said Miss Winston. 

" Yes, ma'am, and he made it for you. 
He has been busy about it ever since he got 
well, and only finished it day before yester- 
day. He was afraid after it was done that 
it was not good enough ; but I told him you 
would be delighted with it." 

" Indeed I am, and still more at receiving 
it from him. You may tell him that I shall 



380 GRATITUDE. 



value it very much, and that it is just what 
I have been needing for some time." 

" I suppose he will expect to be paid for 
itj" said Annie, abruptly. 

^'I do not suppose so at all," said Rich- 
ard. '^ He made it for a present, and would 
be very much hurt if you w^ere to offer him 
monej^ for it. He feels as though Aunt 
Louisa almost saved his life when he was 
sick, and he wanted to do something to 
show his gratitude. He has taken a great 
deal of pains with this ; and I think it shows 
great ingenuity and perseverance." 

''And something better than ingenuity," 
added Sidney. 

''You boys think every thing your 
friend does is quite perfect," said Matilda. 
"It is pretty enough, considering; but 1 
have seen a great deal handsomer in the 
shops." 

"I don't consider Jack perfect by any 
means," replied Richard; "but I think he 
tries to improve, and is improving very fast. 
And as to seeing prettier things in the 
shops, I am sure I have seen much hand- 
somer collars and things in the shops than 




;)|ffiB5l?^^'^^^/vY^^ ^ i-^^^- 



THe Wnite Bear. 



THE BEAR. 381 



the things you and Annie make ; and yet 
they are very pretty notwithstanding." 

'' Considering/' — added Sidney, mischiev- 
ously. 

"Well, well," said Annie, with some 
little impatience, "I think we may let the 
subject drop. It is certainly a very pretty 
table ; and it shows a very proper spirit in 
Jack to make it ; and I dare say he will 
grow to be a very good boy in time. I am 
sure I hope so. But I think w^e have heard 
enough about him for the present. Sup- 
pose we begin with our bears, if aunt is 
ready?" 

Even this somewhat ungracious speech 
gave Richard pleasure, for he thought it 
showed that Annie was growing rather 
ashamed of her prejudice against Jack. 
He wheeled the work-table into a corner 
which was henceforth to be its place, and, 
setting a chair for his aunt, settled himself 
on an ottoman by Annie's side and pre- 
pared himself to listen. 

"The bears," said Miss Winston, "may 
be considered as the representative class of 
the plantigrade carnivora. As we have 
not had this term 'plantigrade' before, we 



382 THE BEAR. 



will enter into a little explanation of it in 
this place. Plantigrade animals are those 
which use the entire foot in walking, — such 
as man, the monkej^s, and the bears. The 
digitigrade, on the contrary, use only the 
toes, — as the cats and dogs, the deer and 
many ruminants. The plantiga^ade animals, 
take them as a class, do not compare with 
the digitigrade for speed, — though some of 
them are excellent climbers. 

'' The bear is very generally distributed 
over the globe, from the North Pole to the 
Tropic of Capricorn. Wherever found, he 
is an object of more or less veneration to 
the native inhabitants, both from his great 
usefulness and from the superstitions that 
attach themselves to him. This is more espe- 
cially the case in the Northern regions, 
where the bear is almost the only large 
land-animal. In the case of the Lap- 
landers, the skin of the bear forms their 
beds and their coverlets, bonnets for their 
heads, gloves for their hands and collars 
for their dogs, while an over-all made of it 
and drawn over their boots prevents them 
from slipping upon the ice. The flesh and 
fat are their dainties ; of the intestines they 



THE BEAR. 



make masks or covers for their faces to pro- 
tect them from the glare of the sun in 
spring, and use them as a substitute for glass 
by extending them over their windows. 
Even the shoulder-blades are said to be put 
in requisition for cutting grass. To the 
Esquimaux the white bear is no less useful. 
They consider his flesh the most nourishing 
of all possible diet; and Dr. Kane found 
this idea to be correct. Their dogs pursue 
him with the greatest perseverance and 
energy, and, if they flag in the course of a 
day's journey, the cry of 'IsTannook! l^an- 
nook !' (^Bear ! Bear !') is sufficient to rouse 
them to the top of their speed. 

"By the Laplanders the bear is called 
' the dog of God ;' and, according to one 
of their proverbs, it has the strength of ten 
men and the sense of twelve. They never — 
says a J^orthern writer — call it by its proper 
name, for fear of offending it, but always 
speak of it as 'the old man in the fur 
cloak.'" 

" What is its proper name ?" asked Annie. 

^'I cannot pretend to prono.unce it," re- 
plied Miss "Winston, smiling; "but I will 
spell it for you. It is Gwouyhya." 



384 THE BEAR. 



''I don't wonder they never call him by 
it/' said Sidney, after making several at- 
tempts to pronounce the word. ''But I 
think, notwithstanding their opinion of the 
old gentleman's sense, it shows rather a 
weakness in him to be ashamed of his own 
name." 

''However that may be," said Miss Win- 
ston, "they are careful never to wound his 
sensibilities by applying it to him, lest he 
should take vengeance for the affront upon 
their flocks. But their consideration for his 
feelings does not prevent them from killing 
him whenever they can and eating him 
afterwards. In the city of Berne in Switzer- 
land, which derives its name from the bear, 
a number of these animals are kept at the 
public expense ; and several noble families 
of the North of Europe carry the bear in 
their coats of arms." 

"But the North American Indians perhaps 
excel all others in the great respect they 
show to the bear. One author, after giving 
an account of the way in which one of 
these animals was killed, by cutting down 
a hollow tree in which it had taken refuge 
for the winter, goes on to say, 'The bear 



THE BEAR. 385 



being dead, all my assistants approached ; 
and all — but particularly my old mother, as 
I was wont to call lier — took the head in 
their hands, stroking and kissing it several 
times, begging a thousand pardons for 
taking away her life, calling her their rela- 
tion and grandmother, and requesting her 
not to lay the fault upon them, since it was 
truly an Englishman who put her to death. 
This ceremony was not of long duration ; 
and, if it was I that killed their grand- 
mother, they were not themselves behind- 
hand in what remained to be performed. 
The skin being taken off, we found the 
fat in several places six inches deep. This, 
being divided into two parts, loaded two 
persons ; and the flesh was as much as four 
persons could carry. In all, the carcass 
must have exceeded^ five hundredweight. 
As soon as we reached the lodge, the bear's 
head was adorned with all the trinkets in 
possession of the family, such as silver arm- 
bands and wristbands and belts of wampum, 
and then laid upon a scafibld set up for its 
reception within the lodge. 'Near the nose 
was placed a quantity of tobacco. The next 
morning no sooner appeared than prepara- 



386 THE BEAR. 



tions were made for a feast. The lodge 
was cleaned and swept, the head lifted up, 
and a new blanket, which had never been 
nsed before, spread under it. The pipes 
were lighted, and Watawam blew tobacco- 
smoke into the nostrils of the bear, telling 
me to do the same and thus appease the 
anger of the bear on account of my having 
killed her. I tried to persuade my bene- 
factor and friendly adviser that she no 
longer had any life, and assured him that I 
was under no apprehensions from her dis- 
pleasure. But the first proposition gained 
no credit, and the last gave but little satis- 
faction. At last, the feast being ready, 
Watawam made a speech, resembling in 
many things his address to the manes of his 
relations and departed companions, but 
having this peculiarity, — that he deplored 
the necessity which men laboured under to 
destroy their friends. He represented, how- 
ever, that the misfortune was unavoidable, 
since without doing so they could by no 
means subsist. The speech being ended,' 
we all ate heartily of the bear's flesh ; and 
even the head, after remaining for three 



THE BEAR. 387 



days on the scaffold, was taken down and 
put into the soup-kettle.' 

" The bear is also much respected in the 
East Indies and considered as being pos- 
sessed of certain supernatural powers. A 
story is related of an English officer who, 
passing with his palanquin through a forest, 
was attacked by a bear and left to his fate 
by his attendants, who stood looking on, 
exclaiming, alternately, 'Weil done, master ! 
well done, bear!' as one or the other ap- 
peared likely to have the advantage, and, 
when the conflict was ended by the death of 
the bear, approached in a body to congratu- 
late the Sahib on his victory." 

"Well, bears are curious creatures," said 
Sidney ; " and I do not wonder that ignorant 
people should suppose them to be some- 
thing more than mere brutes. I think there 
is something very human about a bear, — 
they have such thoughtful, sensible-looking 
eyes." 

"Their power of standing upright, and 
even of taking some steps in that position, 
may have contributed to the same idea," 
replied Miss Winston. "It is universally 
asserted by hunters that the bear will not 



888 THE BEAR. 



attack a sleeping man ; and they sometimes 
take strange freaks of forbearance and attach- 
ment towards human beings, especially chil- 
dren. I recollect not many years ago hearing 
of a ease which seems almost incredible. A 
little girl who was lost in the woods for two 
or three days, asserted, when she was found, 
that she had slept every night with a bear. 
She declared that she lay down by a hollow 
log ; that the b^r came and lay down by her ; 
that she was afraid at first, but the bear licked 
her face, and then she put her arms round 
his neck and went to sleep. A tame bear at 
Nancy, in Lorraine, during a severe winter, 
took a starving Savoyard boy under his 
protection, kept him in his arms while he 
slept, played with him, and shared his food 
with him, and, though he allowed the boy 
full liberty, furiously resented any attempt 
to take his protege from him by force. 
Nevertheless, it must be confessed that tame 
bears sometimes take fits of ferocity, and 
have been knowm treacherously to destroy 
the lives of those to whom they had seemed 
to be the most attached. 

"Bears have the following general cha- 
racteristics. They have forty-two teeth, 



THE BEAR. 389 



—namely; twelve incisors or cutting-teeth, 
of which two or three are occasionally miss- 
ing, two canine teeth above and below, and 
twelve molars in the upper jaw and fourteen 
in the lower, which seem to be better adapted 
to a fruit than to a flesh diet. They have 
five toes on each foot, armed with strong 
and sharp claws, which are more or less 
non-retractile and fitted for climbing and 
digging. All the limbs are strongly made, 
and they stand comparatively high on 
their feet. The ears are well proportioned, 
the eyes rather small ; the tail is very short 
or almost entirely wanting, and the fur 
thick, long and usually handsome. In 
wintry regions bears usually hibernate ; 
that is, they retire to safe retreats, either 
under the snow, in hollow trees, or in lairs 
constructed of boughs of trees and moss, 
where they pass the winter months, with- 
out food or drink, in a state of apparent tor- 
pidity. They are said to be extremely fat 
when they emerge from their retreats, but 
become greatly emaciated immediately after- 
wards. It is also said that when bears are un- 
able to hibernate they are subject to tempo- 
rary blindness ; and this was the case with a 



390 THE BEAR. 



fine, half-grown cub which was carried from 
Quebec to England on board of a man-of- 
war, and which was entirely blind from the 
end of November till the end of February. 
This blindness seemed to cause him but 
little inconvenience, as he went about the 
ship with great confidence and agility, and 
in his gambols with the young midshipmen 
was fully a match for his playfellows. 

" Bears are fond of sweets, especially 
honey, and will sometimes run great j^sks 
to obtain it. It was the belief of the an- 
cients that the bear was troubled with 
blindness and headache and resorted to the 
stings of the bees as a counter-irritant. If 
they find a bee-tree, they will work with 
great assiduity till they make a hole large 
enough to introduce their paws and draw 
out honey, bees and all. They also eat 
berries and acorns, and are very destructive 
to green corn. I can remember when the 
alarm of 'Bears in the corn!' used to be 
heard every now and then in summer. 
They will also enter cellars and steal milk; 
and all of them — at least in captivity — are 
fond of bread and cakes." 

''They like cakes the best," said Daisy. 



THE BEAR. 391 



" Mr. Barton's bear does. "When Lizzy 
offers him a cracker and a piece of bread, 
he will always take the cracker first." 

"Has Mr. Barton got a bear?" asked 
Antoinette. " I should like to see it. I 
never saw one near." 

" We will go down to-morrow," said 
Annie ; " and yon shall see it, and feed it 
too, if 3'OU like, and old Mrs. Barton will 
tell yon stories without end. She is a kind 
old lady. But go on, aunt, if you please. I 
think bears are as interesting as any ani- 
mals we have had." 

"Bears," continued MissWinston, "have 
been divided by naturalists into four prin- 
cipal groups. First, Helarctos, or Sun- 
bears; second, Prochilas, or Tumbler-bears, 
sometimes called the labiated bear; third, 
Ursus, or bears proper; and finally, Thalarc- 
tos, or Marine bears. 

" The sun-bears, the first in order, are 
natives of the torrid zone alone, and difier 
from the true bears in having close, short 
fur. The body is long in proportion to its 
height at the shoulders ; the ears are small 
and round, the muzzle short and broad, 
with lips capable of being considerably ex- 



892 THE BEAR. 



tended ; the tongue is very long, the claws 
long and crooked, and there is a clear, white 
spot upon the breast. The colour is jet-black, 
with the exception of the white spot above 
mentioned and the muzzle, which is of a 
yellowish colour. It is very sagacious and 
gentle, and has a wonderful fondness for 
all sorts of dainties, especially honey, 
which its long, flexible tongue is well 
adapted for devouring. It haunts the 
neighbourhood of villages in order to de- 
vour the young shoots of the cocoanut- 
trees, of which it is very fond, and does 
much mischief in this way; but it does not 
attack man, and, indeed, never eats flesh 
unless pressed by hunger. Sir Stamford 
Raffles had one which was very tame and 
a great favourite. He says, ' He lived two 
years in my possession. He was brought 
up in the nursery with the children, and 
when admitted to my table, as was fre- 
quently the case, gave a proof of his taste 
by refusing to eat any fruit but mangostins 
or drink any wine but champagne. The 
only time I ever knew him out of humour 
was on an occasion when no wine was forth- 
coming. He was naturally of an affection- 



THE BEAR. 393 



ate disposition, and it was never found 
necessary to chain or chastise him. It was 
usual for this bear, the cat, the dog and a 
small blue mountain-lory of New Holland to 
mess together and all eat out of the same 
dish. His favourite playfellow was the 
dog, whose teasing and worrying he always 
bore with the utmost playfulness and good- 
humour. As he grew up he became a very 
powerful animal, and in his rambles in the 
garden he would lay hold of the largest 
plantains, the stems of which he could 
hardly embrace, and tear them up by the 
roots.' 

''The other Sun-bear, the Bornean, 
greatly resembles the first, except that the 
patch on the breast is of a yellow or orange 
colour and nearly square. The one kept 
in the Tower of London was as sociable 
and amiable in his disposition as the in- 
dividual just described; was very fond of 
his keeper and took pains to attract his 
notice and that of the spectators, and, as it 
were, to entertain them by performing 
various antics, such as standing on its hind- 
legs, opening its jaws and protruding its 
long and slender tongue, stretching out its 



394 THE BEAR. 



neck and fore-feet and making motions as 
if to stand on its head. It was very vora- 
cious, would eat without cessation if al* 
lowed, and finally fell a victim to its own 
gluttony, over-eating itself one hot morn- 
ing and dying within ten minutes, — a sad 
warning to all httle boys and girls who are 
too fond of good things." 

Matilda looked a little as if she thought 
this was meant for her. 

"- The next upon our list is the tumbler, 
labiated or sloth bear, — one of the most 
curious and uncouth in appearance of any 
of the race. This animal, when first brought 
to Europe, was considered a sloth, and called 
the five-fingered or ursine sloth ; but further 
examinations have proved that it is really a 
bear. It has only four incisor teeth in the 
lower jaw, and these are rather liable to 
fall out, and one is often entirely missing. 
The muzzle is long, and the lips capable of 
being protruded in the form of a proboscis. 
The ears are small and pointed, the eyes 
small, and there is a great profusion of long 
half-erect hair upon the back and sides of 
the throat, part of which curls over the 
head. Under the throat is a white mark 



THE BEAR. 395 



resembling the letter V or Y. Its powers 
of smell are extraordinary. It is very gentle 
and sagacious ; and these qualities, together 
with its ludicrous figure, make it a great 
favourite with the East Indian jugglers and 
mountebanks, who teach it to perform many 
curious feats. There were for a long time 
a pair kept in the Zoological Gardens in 
London. In manners they were rather me- 
lancholy, but not ill-tempered or lazy. They 
lived together on very friendly and social 
terms, often lying huddled close together 
for hours, keeping up a low rattling whine 
or purring, which w^as so far from unmusi- 
cal that many people called it their song. 
They generally kept their fore-paws at their 
mouth when they made this noise. The 
one which I saw did not purr, that I recol- 
lect, but it seemed very gentle and fond of 
its keeper, who, however, said he did not 
think it was to be trusted, as it was fond of 
blood; and in India whole families of them 
are accused of attacking travellers, and, after 
throwing them down, munching the hands 
and feet of the victim till the bones are 
crushed, and then sucking the, limbs almost 
reduced to a pulp, but tearing the flesh very 



896 THE BEAR. 



little. This fact is well attested ; and the 
form of the teeth and jaws is well adapted 
to such an operation. At other times, how- 
ever, they will run harmlessly in the path 
before the traveller, seeming to take delight 
in amusing him with their antics and feats 
of climbing and tumbling." 

^'It seems to me," said Miss Taylor, ''that 
I have heard this munching-propensity at- 
tributed to the common black bear; but I 
cannot recall any particulars." 

''Dear me!" exclaimed Antoinette. "I 
shall not go near him, then. I should not 
like to have my hands crushed to pieces by 
a bear." 

" Oh, you need not be afraid of old 
Bruin," said Sidney. "He is always kept 
chained up; and, besides, he is very gentle. 
He eats out of Lizzie Barton's hands. But 
now come the regular bears." 

" The bears proper are by far the most 
numerous and the most widely diffused," 
continued Miss Winston, "being found 
throughout the ITorth of Europe, in Asia, 
and all over ITorth America. The brown 
bear inhabits almost all the mountainous 
parts of Europe, and was formerly very 



THE BEAK. 397 



common in the British Islands, as we learn 
from classic authors that British and Cale- 
donian bears were much esteemed for the 
sports of the amphitheatre. They were for- 
merly imported into England in large num- 
bers, that they might be baited with dogs 
in places called bear-gardens ; and we find 
constant allusion to this barbarous and cruel 
pastime in the works of Shakspeare and 
other writers of his and later times. It was 
one of the amusements provided for Queen 
Elizabeth during her famous visit to Kenil- 
worth ; and a bear-ward was a recognised 
ofiicer in several noble households ! At the 
present day the word 'bear-garden' has be- 
come a name for every thing coarse and 
unrefined. 

"The brown bear stands erect with ease, 
and assumes that position when at bay, en- 
deavouring to suffocate men and animals 
by squeezing, or, as it is called, h>igging 
them. They are usually shot with rifles; 
but the peasants of the North occasionally 
attack them single-handed, having the left 
arm guarded with several thicknesses of 
bear-skin and the right armed with a very 
keen-edged sharp-bladed knife. As the 



398 THE BEAK. 



bear rears upon his hind-legs, the man gives 
him several quick stabs, and at the same 
time keeps him at a distance with his 
guarded arm, so as to prevent him from 
giving the dreaded hug, or still more dreaded 
kick, by which it is able to beat down its 
antagonist with one blow\ 

'^ A black bear with a white collar or ring 
around its neck is also found in Sweden, 
but it is neither so large nor so common as 
the brown bear. A whitish bear was for- 
merly found in great abundance in Syria, 
and was a very dangerous animal; but it 
has now become comparatively rare. It 
prefers flesh to vegetables, but occasionally 
commits great ravages in the fields of pulse i 
and grain. It is sometimes a reddish brown, j 
sometimes almost white. The bears men-j 
tioned in Holy Scripture were probably of | 
this variety, as they seem to have been much 
more formidable than the common bear of 
Europe. A brown bear is found also in 
Hindostan ; but very little is known of its 
habits. 

'' America aflbrds several varieties of 
bears, of which the black is the most common . 
Your friend Bruin is a fine example of this 




^y:^"-^:;'' 'C^^\- • -""- i- s=^ ^-F^3^_^ 



The Black Bear. 



p 398. 



i 



i 



THE BEAR. 399 



species. It is the smallest of the American 
bears, and very gentle except when pressed 
by hnnger or acting in defence of its cnbs. 
The fur is black and glossy, except the fore 
part of the head, which is reddish brown. 
The eyes are rather small, but thoughtful 
and intelligent-looking, and the general ex- 
pression—at least, in captivity— is mild and 
appealing. It is active, good at climbing, 
and stands erect upon its hind-legs with 
ease. It is not so carnivorous even as the 
brown bear of Europe, preferring berries, 
roots, beechnuts, acorns, corn, and in fact 
almost any vegetable diet, to meat. It is 
extremely fond of green corn, and destroys 
great quantities of it." 

"They like apples, too," said Daisy. "I 
remember Grandmother Whipple used to 
tell us about the bear that ate the apples." 

"And about the bear that ate the milk," 
added Sidney, "l^o : that was Aunt Julian's 
story." 

"Yery few things come amiss to them. 
The black bear, like the brown, hibernates, 
generally selecting a place under a fallen 
log or in a hollow tree, to which he retires 
upon the first fall of snow and dozes away 



400 THE BEAR. 



his winter very comfortably. In this state, 
many hundreds are destroyed every winter 
for the sake of the fur, which is much valued 
for military decorations, while the flesh 
forms an agreeable article of food. The fat 
is remarkably greasy and penetrating, and 
is said (with what truth I know not) to be 
very nourishing to the hair. The yellow 
bear of Carolina is a variety of this species, 
and is said to possess more intelligence than 
his black cousin. Colonel Smith at one 
time had one of each in his possession, and 
says of them, 'While the black bear lay 
down in perfect apathy, and our attention 
was directed to another object, a familiar 
breathing over our shoulder made us fancy 
some unceremonious intruder was looking 
over our work ; and, upon turning round, we 
perceived it was the yellow bear, carefully 
raised upon his hind-feet, not touching our 
clothes with his fore-paws, but having his 
snout over our shoulder and curiousl}^ in-| 
tent upon what was doing upon the paper.' "( 

'' I suppose he felt a natural interest in 
seeing whether his portrait was like him," 
observed Richard. 

" Many tame animals are very curious 



THE BEAR. 401 



about the operations of reading and wri- 
ting," said Miss Winston, ''and will watch, 
the pen or the book for a long while with 
great interest, sometimes seeming really an- 
noyed at being unable to comprehend what 
it is all about. The spectacled bear is found 
in the Andes, and is remarkable for having 
the nose yellow, and a circle of the same 
extending round the eye, leaving the orbit 
black. The barren-ground bear is larger 
than the black bear, and more resembles 
the brown bear of Europe. It inhabits the 
barren and desolate regions that lie between 
the last forests upon the continent of Ame- 
rica and the Arctic Circle, and forms the 
principal article of food and commerce to 
the tribes that roam over those desolate 
tracts. 

" The grisly bear is to the other bears 
what the lion and tiger are to the smaller 
felines, and is the most to be dreaded of any 
wild animal of the American continent, 
except perhaps the jaguar of South America. 
Its immense strength, which seems to equal 
that of the lion, its ferocity, its great tenacity 
of life, and its power of swimming, combine 
to make it an object of dread to hunters in 

34* 



402 THE BEAR. 



the far West and in California. A full- 
grown grisly bear will pull down a bison 
and kill it, and afterwards carry away the 
carcass, which often weighs one thousand 
pounds. Like other carnivorous animals, 
it is much more to be dreaded after it has 
obtained a taste of human flesh ; and many 
stories are told by Western hunters and trap- 
pers of encounters with these animals. Sir 
John Richardson, whose travels are ex- 
tremely interesting, tells the following story 
of one of them. 'A party of voyageurs, 
who had been employed all day in tracking 
a canoe up the Saskatchawan, had seated 
themselves in the twilight by a fire, and 
were busied in preparing their supper, when 
a huge grisly bear sprang over the canoe, 
which was tilted up behind them, and, seiz- 
ing one of the men by the shoulder, carried 
him offl The rest fled in terror, with the 
exception of one named Bonnaur, who, 
grasping his gun, followed the bear as it 
was retreating leisurely with his prey. He 
called to his unfortunate companion that 
he was afraid of hitting him if he fired at ; 
the bear; but the latter entreated him to fire 
immediately w^ithout hesitation, as the bear 



THE BEAR, 403 



was squeezing him to death. Upon this he 
discharged his piece into the body of the 
bear, which instantly dropped his prey to 
pursue Bonnaur. He escaped with difficulty, 
and the bear retreated to a thicket, where he 
was supposed to have died ; but, the curiosity 
of the party not being a match for their 
fears, the fact of his death was not ascer- 
tained. The man who was rescued had his 
arm fractured, and was otherwise severely 
injured, but finally recovered.' " 

" It is a pity they did not find out whether 
the bear was killed," remarked Sidney. 
" I would have gone to see, and had his 
skin, to pay for the trouble he had given 



me. 



"Then you would have done a foolish 
thing," replied his aunt. "The best and 
boldest hunters are very content to let him 
alone if he lets them alone, and do not fire 
at him unless it becomes necessary, or when 
they can take him at a great disadvantage, 
Sir John adds, ' I am told there is a man 
now living in the vicinity of Edmonton 
House, who was attacked by a gi-isly bear, 
which sprang out of a thicket and with 
one blow of its paw completely scalped him. 



404 THE BEAR. 



laying bare the skull and bringing the skin 
of the forehead down over the eyes. Assist- 
ance coming np, the bear made off without 
doing him any further injury; but, the skin 
not being replaced, the poor man has lost 
his sight, though he thinks his eyes are un- 
injured.' Mr. Drummond, in his excursions 
upon the Rocky Mountains, had frequent 
opportunities of observing the manners of 
the grisly bears ; and it often happened 
that upon turning the point of a rock or 
sharp angle of a valley he came suddenly 
upon one or more of them. On these oc- 
casions they reared up on their hind-legs 
and made a noise like a person breathing 
hard, — but much louder. He kept his 
ground, without attempting to molest them; 
and they, on their part, after attentively re- 
garding him for some time, generally turned 
and galloped off, — though, from their known 
disposition, there is but little doubt that he 
would have been torn in pieces had he lost 
his presence of mind and attempted to fly. 
When he discovered them at a distance, he 
generally frightened them away by beating 
on a large tin box in which he carried his 
specimens of plants. He never saw more 



THE BEAR. 405 



than four of them together; and two of 
them he supposes to have been cubs. 

" You can hardly read any book of 
Western travels without finding abundance 
of anecdotes of grisly bears, all of which 
serve to show that he is a very dangerous 
animal. When fully grown, they are said to 
measure nine feet from the nose to the tail ; 
and some have been killed even larger. 
Their weight is almost eight hundred pounds. 
The tail is extremely short and small, and 
covered with hair; so that it is a standing 
joke among the Indian hunters, as Sir John 
Eichardson observes, to desire any one un- 
acquainted with the animal to take hold of 
his tail. The paws are very large, the fore- 
paws measuring* nine inches w^ithout the 
claws, which are fully six inches in length, 
straight, smooth and very strong, and well 
adapted for digging. These claws are 
much prized as ornaments by the Indian 
braves, who wear them as necklaces. The 
muzzle is long, narrow and flat, and the 
canine teeth very large and strong. Not- 
withstanding its unwdeldy appearance, it 
runs with great quickness ; but, owing to 
the form of its claws, the full-grown bear 



406 THE BEAR. 



is unable to climb trees. The hair is long 
and abundant, varying through all the 
shades of gray and blackish brown. The 
eyes are rather small and sunken. It is 
said to be quite untamable." 

"Did you ever see one ?" asked Antoin- 
ette. 

"I once saw two half-grown cubs in a 
menagerie," replied Miss Winston. "They 
were very sulky and irritable, but seemed 
to be friendly with each other, — though the 
keepers did not succeed in gaining their 
conj&dence. They were ugly creatures, and 
their fur — perhaps from the effect of their 
confinement — seemed very harsh and dirty, 
entirely different from that either of the 
white or black bear." 

"I never saw a white bear," said Ma- 
tilda. 

" The fur rug in the other parlour is 
made of the skin of a white bear," said Miss 
Louisa. "It is of a yellowish colour, you 
may observe, thick and long upon the 
outside edges but close and shorter in the 
middle. My father intended to have the 
natural shape preserved ; but the man mis- 
took his orders and cut off the outside, 



THE BEAR. 407 



SO as to bring it into a more regular form. 
The Polar bear is called the marine bear 
in our classification, on account of its 
almost amphibious habits. They inhabit 
only the extreme Northern regions, seldom 
descending below the fifty-fifth parallel of 
latitude, which, you may observe, crosses 
Hudson's Bay just at the entrance of James 
Bay. They have been found in lower 
latitudes borne upon floating ice ; and in 
this way they are often carried from the 
coasts of Greenland to those of Iceland, 
where they commit such ravages that the 
whole population of the island turns out 
to destroy them. They are found upon all 
the Asiatic coasts of the Frozen Ocean, in 
Spitzbergen, Nova Zembla, Greenland, 
Labrador, and on the coast of Baffin's and 
Hudson's Bays. Dr. Kane, who reached a 
higher northern latitude than any one else 
has ever done, found them still to the north 
of him, and believed that they were to be 
met with as far north as the open sea which 
is now almost positively known to exist 
around the North Pole, and the borders 
of which were actually reached by his 
companions, Morton and Hans the Esqui- 



408 THE BEAR. 



maux. The early voyagers gave wonderful 
accounts of the size and strength of these 
creatures; and, though later travellers show 
some exaggeration in these stories, enough 
still remains to show that they are suffi- 
ciently formidable. The greatest length 
recorded is eight feet from nose to tail, 
and the greatest weight sixteen hundred 
pounds. Seven feet is a more ordinary 
size, and many are smaller : I am certain the 
one that I saw could not have measured 
more than five feet. The head of the 
Polar bear is long and flat, the ears and 
mouth small, the eyes moderately large, 
the neck long and thick, the foot large and 
the sole of it covered with hair. The Esqui- 
maux take off the skin of the legs and feet 
whole, and use it as a boot and legging; 
and it is the mode to let the claws project 
beyond the foot, as they were worn by the 
original owner." 

''They would be convenient for walking 
upon the ice," remarked Richard; ''but I 
should think the long claws would be in 
the way in running." 

" The claws are not nearly so long as 
those of the grisly bear," replied Miss 



THE BEAR. 409 



Louisa, "- but are sliort, thick and much 
curved. The food of the white bear con- 
sists principally of fish and the flesh of the 
seal and walrus; but he does not disdain 
birds, birds' eggs, biscuit, flour, cloth, or, in 
fact, any thing he can get. Captain Lyon 
gives the following account of his hunting 
the seal : — ' The bear, on seeing his intended 
prey, gets quietly into the water and sw^ims 
until to the leeward of him, from whence, by 
frequent short dives, he silently makes his 
• approaches, and so arranges his distance 
that by the last dive he comes to the spot 
where the seal is lying. If the poor animal 
attempts to escape by rolling into the water, 
he falls into the bear's clutches ; if, on the 
contrary, he lies still, his destroyer makes a 
powerful spring, kills him on the ice and 
destroys him at his leisure.' " 

''Is the flesh of the white bear good to 
eat?" asked Miss Taylor. ''I think I have 
read in some Arctic voyages that it was un- 
wholesome." 

" It was believed to be so by some of the 
earlier travellers in those regions," replied 
Miss Winston ; ''but later ones have eaten 
of it abundantly, and have found it not only 



410 TiiK r>E\n. 



harmless, but benelicial ; and Dr. Kane says 
that, eaten raw, it forms one of the best re- 
medies for the scurvy." 

^'Oh, shocking !" exclaimed Matilda. ^'He 
did not eat it raw, did he ?" 

" Yes : both bear and walrus meat were 
eaten raw, and found much more beneficial 
in that state than when cooked. Dr. Kane 
thought there were few things better than a 
slice of frozen walrus ; and it was certainly 
a fortunate thing in their case that they 
found it so, for their means of cooking were 
scanty in the extreme. There has always 
been an idea that the liver of the bear was 
poisonous. Dr. Kane was at first inclined 
to treat this as a prejudice, and partook of 
it once or twice on his first voyage without 
receiving anj^ harm ; but on his last voyage 
he found himself attacked, after eating it, 
with symptoms resembling those from 
poison. But if the bears were beneficial 
to him in one way they were mischievous 
enough in another, by destroying his deposits 
of provisions, even when he thought he had 
secured them against even the possibility 
of such an attack. He gives the following 
account of their performances : — 



I 



THE BEAR. 411 



" ' The first cache, which I had relied so 
much upon, was entirely destroyed. It had 
been built with extreme care of rocks which 
had been assembled by very heavy labour 
and adjusted often with much aid from 
capstan-bars as levers. The entire construc- 
tion was, so far as our means permitted, 
eflfective and resisting. Yet these tigers of 
the ice seemed to have encountered scarce 
an obstacle. Xot a morsel of pemmican re- 
mained, except in the iron cases, which, 
being round with conical ends, defied both 
their claws and teeth. They had rolled and 
pawed them in every direction, tossing them 
about like footballs, although more than 
eighty pounds in weight. An alcohol-can, 
strongly iron bound, was dashed into frag- 
ments, and a tin can of liquor crunched 
and twisted about into a ball. The claws 
of the beast had perforated the metal, and 
torn it up as with a cold chisel. They were 
too dainty for salt meats. Ground coftee 
they had an evident relish for ; old canvas 
was a favourite for some reason or other ; 
even our fiag, which had been reared to take 
possession of the waste, was gnawed down 
to the very staff: They had made a regular 



412 THE BEAR. 



frolic of it, — rolling our bread-barrels over 
the ice-foot and into the broken ice beyond; 
and, unable to masticate our hard, heavy 
India-rubber cloth, they had tied it up into 
unimaginable hard knots. Mr. McGary de- 
scribes the whole area round the cache as 
marked b}^ the well-worn paths of these ani- 
mals ; and an adjacent slope of ice-covered 
rocks, with an angle of forty-five degrees, was 
so worn and covered with hair as to suggest 
the idea that they had been sliding down on 
their haunches, — a performance, by-the-way, 
at which I afterwards caught them myself " 

Sidney and Richard w^ere very much 
amused at the idea of the bears making 
sliding-parties and entertaining their com- 
pany with Dr. Kane's provisions. " I won- 
der what they thought while they were 
pulling the things about?" said Annie. 
" They must have wondered how they came 
there. I should like to have been behind 
a rock and overheard their conversation, if 
I had understood the bears' language." 

" Even supposing joii had understood the 
language, I doubt whether you would have 
stood long to listen to them with the 
thermometer forty degrees below zero," re- 



THE BEAR. 413 



marked Miss Winston, — '' especially as there 
would have been every probability of their 
smelling you out and adding you to their 
literally cold collation." 

'' Did Dr. Kane have any more to do with 
the bears ?" asked Daisy. 

"Yes, plenty more." 

"Won't you read us some of them to- 
night?" begged Richard. "You know we 
boys shall not have time to read the book 
itself before we go, — at least, I am afraid not; 
and we shall not mind reading them twice, 
at any rate. Please read us a hunting-story, 
if there is one." 

" There are two or three hunting-stories," 
replied Miss Winston ; " but they are so long 
that I cannot read them all this evening, 
but must content myself with the shortest, 
which will show you how the bear, when 
hard pressed, defends not only herself but 
her little one. The bear was one w^hich 
was encountered by Morton and Hans on 
their journey towards the Polar sea. 

" 'The bear fled ; but, the little one being 
unable to keep ahead of the dogs or to keep 
up with her, she turned back, and, putting 
her head under its haunches, threw it some 



414 THE BEAR. 



distance ahead. The cub being safe for the 
moment, she would wheel round and face 
the dogs, so as to give it a chance to run 
away; but it always stopped just as it 
alighted till the mother came up and threw 
it ahead again. It seemed to expect her 
aid and to be unable to go on without it. 
Sometimes the mother would run a few 
yards ahead, as if to coax the young one 
up to her; and when the dogs came up with 
her she would turn on them and drive them 
back. Then, as they dodged her blows, 
she would rejoin the cub and push it on, 
sometimes putting her head under it, some- 
times catching it in her mouth by the nape 
of the neck. 

^''For some time she managed her retreat 
with great alacrity, leaving the two men far 
in the rear. But, after she had gone a mile 
and a half, her pace slackened, and, the little 
one being jaded^ she soon came to a halt. 

'' 'The fight was now a desperate one. The 
mother never went more than ten yards 
ahead, constantly looking at the cub. When 
the dogs came near her, she would sit upon 
her haunches and take the little one be- 
tween her hind-legs, fighting the dogs with 



THE BEAR. 415 



her fore-paws and roaring so she could be 
heard a mile off. ^'Xever/' said Morton, 
''was an animal more distressed." She would 
stretch out her neck and snap at the nearest 
doo; with her shinino; teeth, whirlino; her 
fore-paws like the sails of a windmill. If 
she missed her aim, not daring to pursue 
one dog, lest the others should harm the 
cub, she would give a great roar of baffled 
rage, and go on, pawing and snapping and 
facing the ring, grinning at them with her 
mouth stretched wide. "When the men came 
up, the little one was perhaps rested, for it 
was able to turn round with its dam, no 
matter how quick she moved, so as to keep 
always in front of her helly. The five dogs 
were all the time frisking about her activelj^, 
tormenting her like so many gad-flies : in- 
deed, they made it difficult to draw a bead 
on her without killing them. But Hans, 
lying on his elbow, took a quick aim and 
shot her through the head. She dropped 
at once, and rolled over without moving a 
muscle. 

" ' The dogs made towards her at once ; but 
the cub jumped upon her body and reared up, 
for the first time growling hoarsely. They 



416 THE BEAR. 



seemed quite afraid of the little creature, 
she growled so fiercely and made so much 
noise ; and, while tearing mouthfals of hair 
from the dead mother, they would spring 
aside the moment the cub turned towards 
them. The men drove off the dogs for a 
time, but were obliged to shoot the cub at 
last, as she w^ould not quit the body. Hans 
fired, but did not kill her, though he knocked 
her down ; but she was still able to climb 
upon her mother's body and try to defend 
it, her mouth bleeding like a gutter-spout. 
They were obliged to dispatch her with 
stones.'" 

There was a moment's silence as Miss 
Winston finished her story, which was 
broken by a suppressed sobbing sound from 
behind Annie. She turned round rather 
startled and found Daisy crying as if her 
heart would break, — too bitterly, indeed, to 
be able to give any account of the cause 
of her grief. But Sidney guessed it pre- 
sently. 

^'I know!" said he, half laughing, half 
crying too. '' She is crying about the bear. 
Isn't that it, Daisy?" 

The little girl returned some answer, in 



THE BEAK. 417 



which the words '^ poor little bear!" were all 
that were intelligible. 

'Pshaw!" said Matilda, half aside, to 
Kate. ''It is more than half affectation, 
just to have a fuss made about her." 

Annie favoured her cousin with a glance 
which was certainly not a very friendly one, 
and busied herself in comforting Daisy, who 
presently dried her eyes and looked up. 

" It was foolish to crj^," she said; " but it 

seemed so hard for the poor " There 

was imminent danger of breaking down 
again ; but she conquered it and returned to 
her work, without, however, trying to finish 
the sentence. 

"Poor ITannook seems to be a person of 
a good deal of character," observed Eich- 
ard; "but she does not seem to hug like the 
other bears." 

" According to Dr. Kane, she makes 
more use of her teeth than of her paws. In 
another account of a fight between the dogs 
and a bear near the ship's side, the bear 
seized her antagonists by the neck and 
threw them to a great distance. The J^ew- 
foundlauds generally alighted senseless; 
but the Esquimaux dogs, better trained to 



418 THE BEAR. 



the conflict, relaxed all their muscles as 
they fell and rose to their feet in an instant, 
ready for a fresh attack. Should a single 
Esquimaux, travelling over the ice, come 
upon the traces of a bear, he follows them 
without hesitation, knowing that his well- 
trained dogs will, by diverting the animal's 
attention, cause it to turn to one side and 
thus expose the other to a fatal thrust with 
the spear. They often receive severe wounds 
in these encounters ; but, owing to their 
great caution, but few lives are lost." 

''Do Polar bears sleep during the win- 
ter ?" asked Annie. 

''It is said that some of the females do 
so, and only awake when the sun is tole- 
rably high, bringing forth their young in 
their snug retreats. Other females roam 
abroad all winter, and are then very dan- 
gerous." 



CONCLUSION. 419 



CHAPTEE XI. 

CONCLUSION. 

The next day after luncheon all the chil- 
dren went down to the village to see the 
bear. Matilda and Daisy rode in the 
wagon, with Richard to drive. Kate rode 
the little brown pony which daily brought 
her up to her lessons with Miss Taylor and 
carried her back again when she did not 
stay all night, and Sidney his pet bay 
mare. Annie had intended to ride likewise, 
and had her habit actually on, when An- 
toinette came to her room, and, much to 
her cousin's surprise, said, with some hesita- 
tion, — 

^^ Annie, do you mind walking down to 
the village instead of riding? It is not very 
warm ; and I want a chance to talk to you." 

Annie hesitated a moment. She did not 
like to give up her ride ; but she reflected 



420 A WALK. 



that Antoinette was going away very soon, 
and determined to gratify her. 

''No, certainly," said she, — ''if you want 
to walk; but I thought you would rather 
go in the wagon. It will be very pleasant. 
The sun does not shine and it is not dusty; 
and we can set out before the others and 
take our time. Only please don't be long 
in getting ready." 

"I am ready now, all but my hat; and 
that is down in the hall. I will wait for you 
there." 

Matilda was astonished to see her sister 
and Annie setting off together, and vented 
several sarcasms about exclusiveness and 
secrets ; but Antoinette bore it all verv 
good-naturedly and only langhed when 
Matilda said, — 

"I think you had better take Annie 
home Vv^th you. I shall not be considered 
good enough for you to associate with ai^y 
longer." 

Both the children and their elders ob- 
served how much Antoinette's temper had 
improved lately, and Miss Wiiiston some- 
times wished that she might keep her still 
longer; but the present decision was that 



A PLAN. 421 

the girls were to return to Boston when 
their cousins went to school. 

Antoinette and Annie walked along for 
some distance very quietly, the one alto- 
gether silent, the other wondering what her 
cousin could have to say to her and when 
she was going to begin. It was not till 
they had climbed over a stile and entered 
upon a path which led '^ across lots" and 
considerably shortened the way to the vil- 
lage that Antoinette opened the subject. 

''Annie " said she, and stopped. 

" "Well?" said Annie, after waiting a little. 

'' I wish " Another pause. 

''I wish you would begin," said Annie, 
smilino;: ''we shall be at the villasce before 
you have made up your mind to open your 
mouth, and your great secret will remain 
untold." 

"It is no great secret, nor any secret at 
all," replied Antoinette, — "though I did not 
want to speak to Matilda till I had talked to 

you " She made another little pause, and 

then said, abruptly, "Annie, I wish I could 
stav here this winter instead of 2:oino; home 

t/ CD CJ 

and beginning school again. I don't know 

36 



422 HOW RECEIVED. 



whether you would like to have me, but I 
wish I could." 

Annie was at first too much surprised to 
answer. ''Why, Antoinette!" she said, at 
length. " I thought you would not spend 
a winter in the country upon any account. 
You said you should die of stupidity ; and I 
am really afraid you would find it very dull, 
especially as the hojs are to be away." 

'^I don't care for the dulness," said 
Antoinette. " I like the way you go on 
here, and I like reciting to Miss Taylor 
much better than going to school. I am 
sure I learn faster. You see, I am not 
naturally quick like Matilda, and our 
school is so large that the scholars have 
to help themselves a great deal. It is 
against the rules to ask for an explanation 
out of class. That does well enough for 
the bright ones, but not for dull scholars 
like me." 

''You .have improved a great deal, I 
know," said Annie, "and in other things 
besides lessons, and I should like to have 
you stay very much." Annie made this de- 
claration with the most perfect sincerity, — 
though she could not have said as much 



A REPROOF. 423 



when Antoinette first came. ^'But — ex- 
cuse me, Antoinette — I should not think you 
would want to stay." 

^'Why not?" 

^'Away from your mother and sister all 
winter? I would not leave my mother if 
she were alive, not even for Aunt Louisa ; 
and I shall never be separated from Daisy 
if I can help it." 

^'^ Mother won't miss me much," said 
Antoinette, rather bitterly : '' she is out 
all the time; and Matilda and I are not 
like you and Daisy : we don't get on together 
at all. If she were not my sister, I should 
not like her at all, — she is so cross." 

'^ Oh, Antoinette !" remonstrated Annie, 
greatly shocked, — ^^your own o\\\j sister!" 

" Well, I know it sounds heathenish " 

''It is heathenish!" interrupted Annie. 
" ' He that loveth not his brother is a mur- 
derer.' " 

'' Do you think we can love people by 
trying to, Annie ?" 

''I suppose so, of course, or we should 
not be commanded to. But, really, I don't 
see how you and Matilda can be good 



424 INTERCESSION. 



friends when you are always smp-sna2:)pi7if) 
so." 

''Well, I know that too. But Matilda 
begins at me, and then I answer before I 
think." 

'•And sometimes you begin/' said An- 
nie. 

" I don't deny that, either. I know I am 
not a good girl, Annie, but I want to be, 
and I have been trying to be ; and that is the 
reason why I want to stay here, — because it 
is easier than it is at home ; and I think if 
you should ask Aunt Louisa to ask mother 
to let me, perhaps she would." 

"Why not ask her yourself?" inquired 
Annie. 

" Oh, I don't knowj — because I don't like 
to. When I am at home, and want to go 
anywhere with one of the girls, I always 
get her to ask mother ; and she is a great 
djcal more apt to let me." 

"That would not be Aunt Louisa's way 
at all," said Annie. "We always go to her 
ourselves if we want any thing; and I do 
not think she would be pleased if she knew 
you were afraid to ask her. But I will go 
with you to her, if that will help you." 



BACKBITING. 425 



^^ And you really and truly would like to 
have me stay?" 

'' Of course, or I should not say so." 

'' I don't suppose you would," said Antoin- 
ette. "You are not like some people," 
she concluded, abruptly, as though saying 
something different from what she had at 
first intended. "Like Matilda and me, 
for instance," she added, after a moment's 
pause. 

"I'll tell you what it is, Antoinette," said 
Annie: "I wouldn't talk about Matilda's 
faults if I were you. They are not my 
business, at least; and it does not sound well 
for sisters to discuss each other's failings. 
You think I did not like you when you first 
came, and that is true ; and the first thing 
that prejudiced me against you was your 
telling, that first evening, how cross Matilda 
was when she was sick, and how she made 
herself so eating confectionary though your 
mother had forbidden her to buy it." 

"Well," said Antoinette, after a little 
pause, " I believe you are right, and I won't 
say any thing about her, but only about my- 
self." She coloured, as she added, with 
what seemed a painful effort, "When I 

36* 



426 A LIE IS A LIE. 



first carne here, Annie, I did not care any 
thing about telling the truth. I would 
almost as soon say one thing as another; 
and even now it is hard for me to be straight 
about every little thing. I suppose you 
think it very contemptible, and so do I ; 
but I cannot help it, — not always." 

"It never was one of my temptations," 
said Annie; "and then I was always 
brought up to hate and despise a lie." 

"That is another thing," interrupted 
Antoinette. " When you call a thing a lie 
it somehow seems a great deal more serious 
matter than it does when you talk about a 
wrong story or a falsehood." 

"I know it," said Annie. "My mother 
always said that a lie was a lie, and that 
the best way was to use the Bible words. 
I remember once saying that one of the 
little girls in school had told a wrong story. 
Mother told me that there was no such 
word in the Bible ; and for my next Sun- 
day's lesson I copied out all the places 
where it speaks of lying and liars. I have 
got the paper now. There was nothing 
father and mother were so particular about ; 
and Aunt Louisa is the same. She taught 



THE BRIDGE. 427 



US all to think that there is nothing so des- 
picable (besides being wicked) as a lie." 

The girls were now standing on the little 
foot-bridge, looking over the railing into the 
river, which was here quite deep. There 
were large trees at each end of this bridge, 
which cast their shadows entirely across it ; 
and it w^as a favourite resting-place for the 
children in their walks to and from the 
village. 

''How pleasant it is here!" said Annie, 
after a little pause. ''If I should ever go 
away, I should like to have a picture of 
this bridge. I think one might make a 
very pretty sketch from that point below." 

Antoinette did not answer ; and Annie, 
glancing at the reflection of her face in the 
water, saw she was crying. 

"Pray, don't cry!" she hastened to say. 
" I did not mean to hurt your feelings. You 
know you began talking about it, or I 
should not have mentioned it." 

Antoinette pressed her cousin's hands. 
"Never mind," said she. " It was not any 
thing you said, but I am so ashamed to 
think of it ; and I cannot get over it, though 



428 UP-HILL WORK. 



I do try. Only yesterday " Her voice 

was again lost in sobs. 

''But you should not be so easily discou- 
raged, Netty," urged Annie. ''Everyone 
lias to try a great many times before they 
can overcome such a fault. And it is every 
thing to make a beginning." 

"You don't know," said Antoinette: 
"you are so good " 

"I!" interrupted Annie. "You don't 
know me, if you think so." 

"And you cannot tell what up-hill work 
it is," she continued. "I can tell you, when 
you were all talking about that poor boy — 
that Jack — I thought I knew how to sympa- 
thize with him ; and I thought if you had 
had as much trouble trying to be very very 
good as I have had, you would show more 
feeling for him." 

Annie coloured deeply. "You think I 
am so good, Nettj^," she said, in a low voice, 
and without looking up from the contem- 
plation of the little fish that were dancing 
under the bridge; "but there is one thing 
now ! I know I have been verj?- unjust about 
that, and have hurt Dick's feelings; and yet 
it seems as though I could not make up my 



A CONFESSION. 429 



mind to tell him so. I cannot bear to say, 
in so many words, that I have been wrong 
or mistaken about any thing even to my- 
self.'' 

^'"Why do yon tell me, then?" was An- 
toinette's very natural question. 

" I am sure I don't know," replied Annie, 
half laughing, but still leaning over the rail- 
ing, so as to hide her face, ^'unless it is 
because we have got into the spirit of being 
confidential. But it is true that I am proud 
and self-willed, and jealous besides." 

^^But that is not so bad as " Antoin- 
ette pronounced the word as if it choked 
her — ''as lying." 

''I don't know that. I suppose one sin 
is nearly or quite as bad as another. They 
must all be repented of alike, if we wish to 
be forgiven. And that reminds me of what 
I was going to say before." Annie dropped 
her voice again and looked still more stead- 
fastly into the v/ater. " If you really w^ant 
to improve yourself, you know w^hat you 
must do. Ask Him to help you, you know." 

''I do," replied Antoinette. ''I never 
used to say my prayers at home, unless there 
was some one to see me and tell mother if 



430 ALL NEW. 



I didn't ; and it was only a form, at any rate : 
but since I have really wanted to be good I 
have done differently. But I get discouraged 
about that, too, because the more I pray 
the more wrong things I see, and a great 
many things look downright wicked to me 
that I never used to care about. It makes 
my life look like your old gray frock that 
Aunt Louisa was going to mend yesterday: 
at first she thought there were only one or 
two rents, but when she held it up to the 
light it was all full of holes and frays and 
not worth mending." 

''And what did she say?" asked Amiie, 
smiling at the odd illustration. 

'' She said you must have a new one." 
''Well, that is just what she would tell 
you. You must learn to walk in newness 
of life, as the Bible says. You know the 
words of the prayer, ' Create and make in us 
new and contrite hearts ;' and that is what we 
all want in order to be good, — not just mend- 
ing a bit here and a bit there, but making 
over altogether. But, Netty, Aunt Louisa 
would explain this to joxi a great deal better 
than I can, — or Mr. Crediton." 



JACK SIIOr.T AGAIN. 431 



'^Oh, Annie! I never could talk to liim : 
I should be afraid. Wouldn't j^ou ?" 

'' S'o/' replied Annie. '^ I might be afraid 
of some ministers, perhaps, but not of him : 
he is so kind and fatherly, and at the same 
time almost like our companion. I don't 
think that feeling can be right, either, — to be 
afraid of clergymen, I mean. They get grave 
ways sometimes, I knov/, — one don't wonder 
at that ; but I believe if young people were 
to go to them oftener and more frankly for 
advice, they would be pleased instead of 
offended. Of course, one would not want 
to be always talking of one's religious feel- 
ings to them more than to any others ; but still 
every one wants advice sometimes, and then 
the minister is one proper person to give it, 
and our Sunday-school teacher is another." 

The colloquy was interrupted by the ap- 
proach of a boy, who was coming from the vil- 
lage with a bag over his shoulder, w^histling 
as he walked. It proved to be Jack himself; 
and Antoinette wondered whether her cousin 
would speak to him. At another time, per- 
haps, she would not have done so; but she 
remembered what they had just been talking 
about, and resolved to conquer herself. 



432 A RESCUE. 



'^ Good-evening, Jack," she said, in quite a 
cordial tone, and added, ''Aunt is very 
much obliged to you for the beautiful table 
you sent her. It was just such a one as 
she wanted." 

'' She's welcome," replied Jack, colouring 
between pleasure and embarrassment. " I'd 
do more than that for her, if I could." He 
longed to tell the girls that it was dangerous 
to lean over the bridge as they had been 
doing when he came up ; but his bashfulness 
got the better of his judgment, and he 
walked on, while the girls resumed their 
lounging attitude. He had not gone many 
steps when he heard a piercing scream be- 
hind him, and^ turning back, saw Antoinette 
standing alone on the bridge, and noticed 
that part of the railing was gone. The river 
was high, and under the bridge was a deep 
and rather dangerous hole. 

It was the work of an instant to throw 
down his bag and regain the river-side ; but 
Annie had already sunk. As she reappeared 
a little farther down, he sprang in, and, seiz- 
ing her dress, drew her safely to land. But 
the bank was high and the current rather 
strong, and he might have had some dilE- 



A RESCUE. 433 



culty still, but for the assistance of a farmer 
who was passing in the road and was at- 
tracted to the spot by the screams of An- 
toinette. He drew Annie up tlae bank, and 
then gave his hand to Jack, who was so ex- 
hausted by his labours that he staggered 
and fell on the grass. 

Annie had lost her senses at the first 
plunge, but soon recovered them sufficiently 
to ask for Antoinette, who was already be- 
side her. She was too giddy to walk or even 
to stand ; and it ended by the farmer's taking 
her in his arms and carrying her to the wagon 
which he had left standing in the road. By 
the time he had contrived a seat for her and 
her cousin. Jack had picked up himself and 
his bag and was making the best of his way 
towards home. ^' Jump in, Jack, and ride 
with the girls/' said the farmer. ''I guess 
you need it as much as they do." 

"1^0, thank you," replied Jack. "I would 
rather walk and get warm. I shall not be 
half as likely to catch cold. You just drive 
up to The Meadows as fast as you can." 

It did not take much time to reach home, 
where they made their appearance only a 
few minutes after the rest of the party had 



434 NO ONE IN FAULT. 



set out ; and, as may be imagined, the figure 
of Annie, dripping wet and pale as death, 
excited no little surprise and alarm. But 
Aunt Louisa was one of those happy per- 
sons who never lose their presence of mind 
under any circumstances. Annie was quickl}^ 
stripped and put into a warm bed with plenty 
of blankets, and dosed with hot tea to 
prevent her from taking cold. Poor An- 
toinette was almost forgotten in the bustle : 
she had had a terrible shock; and, when her 
aunt sought her to hear a particular account 
of the adventure, she found her lying on 
the sofa faint and pale, and almost as much 
in need of care as Annie herself. She 
seemed to feel as if she had somehow been 
to blame in the catastrophe ; but w^hen the 
story was told Miss Winston could not per- 
ceive it. 

'^I cannot see that you were in any way 
in fault," she said. ''You could not know 
that the railing was unsafe ; and as to your 
screaming, it was the very wisest thing to do 
under the circumstances, since it brought 
help at once. If you had jumped in after 
her, it would only have made matters 
worse." 



A^'XIETY AT THE VILLAGE. 435 



Antoinette was greatly comforted ; but she 
could not help crying afresh every time she 
thought of what might have happened, and 
Miss Winston w^as obliged to speak with 
some authority before she became suf- 
ficiently composed to leave her with Miss 
Taylor and go back to Annie, whose head 
now ached terribly, as it w^as only too apt 
to do under any excitement. 

Meantime the party at the village W' ere in 
no small wonderment as to what had become 
of the girls, who should have arrived before 
them and who had agreed to meet them at 
Mr. Barton's. At first the boys only laughed 
and said they had lingered by the way to 
talk sentiment; but, when more than an hour 
passed on and still they did not come, 
Richard became seriously uneasy. 

^'What can have happened to the girls, 
to keep them so long?" he said to Kate. 

"Perhaps they have gone to walk by 
themselves," suggested Matilda. 

"They would hardly do that," said Kate, 
"Antoinette wanted very much to see the 
bear; and, besides, they would know that we 
w^ere waiting for them. I cannot think of 
any accident that could possibly happen be- 



436 A SCENE. 



tweeii here and The Meadows, if they kept 
along the path." 

"Nor I," replied Richard ; '^ and yet I can- 
not help feeling uneasy. It is so unlike 
Annie to keep any one waiting. Suppose, 
Sidney, you tie your hoi'se to the back of 
the wagon and drive the girls home, and I 
will go back by the road and see if I can 
see or hear any thing of them." 

Sidney agreed, and Richard set out on his 
walk; but when Matilda found out the change 
of drivers she declared she could not and 
Avould not trust herself in the wagon. She 
did not believe Sidney could manage the 
horses, and thej^ would run away: Richard 
had no business to leave them ; and, in short, 
she w^ould not go with Sidney, if she never 
got home. 

''Then you may stay!" said Sidney, pro- 
voked beyond all patience by her absurdity, 
and perhaps by the imputation cast upon 
his driving. ''And I will go home with 
Daisy. I know something serious has hap- 
pened." 

"Do get in, Matilda," said Kate, with au- 
thority, "and don't make a scene here in 
the street. Just look at Daisy, how quiet 



A RELIEF. 487 



she is!" Finally, Matilda did get in, and 
they arrived at home without any mishap, — 
rather, as it seemed, to the young lady's dis- 
appointment. Richard had arrived a few 
minutes before them, in the greatest alarm, 
having found the railing of the bridge 
broken down and Annie's mantle floating 
on the water. It was a wonderful relief to 
find the two girls safely in bed in diflferent 
rooms, and neither apparently much the 
worse for the accident. Matilda was at first 
inclined to get up a scene over Annie; but, 
this being strictly forbidden, she gave way 
to her ill-humour, and declared that it was 
all Antoinette's fault, — that she had spoiled 
the afternoon's pleasure, as she always 
spoiled every thing she had any thing to do 
with, and that it would never have happened 
if she had not taken a freak to walk alone 
with Annie instead of riding with her. It 
ended with her grandfather's threatening to 
send her to bed if she did not behave herself, 
which so hurt her dignity that she remained 
silent and sulky for the rest of the eveningc 
The next morning Annie was able to get 
up to breakfast, though she confessed to 
feeling rather tired and languid. She urged 



438 A REQUEST. 



the boj^s to go and see Jack, to whom they 
all owed so much, and sent him a kind and 
grateful message. They found him conj&ned 
to his bed with a pretty sharp touch of his 
old complaint, brought on by his cold bath 
and severe exertion, and suffering a good 
deal. He was very cheerful, however, and 
seemed glad to see them. Richard found 
more difficulty in thanking Jack than he 
had anticipated : indeed, he quite broke 
down upon it ; but Jack had no trouble in 
understanding him. 

''I am glad to have saved y^our sister, 
Dick," he said; ^'but you know I would 
have done as much for any girl in the 
world." 

^' That does not make us any the less 
obliged to you," replied Richard. ^^Grand- 
father says if there is any thing in the 
world he can do for you " 

" There is one thing, if it wouldn't be 
too much trouble," said Jack, as Richard 
paused. '' I was in the city the other day, 
and went down to the machine-shop, where 
they make steam-engines. One of the men 
that I know took me all over the works ; 
and I thought it was the trade above all 



A REQUEST. 439 



others that I should like to learn. But 
when I asked the man about it he said 
they did not want to take an apprentice. 
Now, I know your grandfather has some 
interest in the works, and I thought perhaps 
he might get me a place there." 

'^ Would you rather do that than go to 
school and have an education ?" asked 
Sidney. 

^'I think I should," said Jack. ''Of 
course I should like to learn all I could; 
but I have always wanted to be a machi- 
nist, more than any thing else in the 
world." 

"Well," said Richard, ''we will talk to 
grandfather about it ; and I dare say he can 
manage it. And now, do you know, Jack, 
that we are really going to school on Thurs- 
day and shall be away till Christmas?" 

Jack looked very grave at this intel- 
ligence. " I don't see what you want to go 
away to school for," said he. "I am sure 
you know enough." 

Richard laughed at Jack's idea of his 
acquirements, and began to tell what he 
was going to study in school. 

"I should think you mean to be some 



440 PLANS OF LIFE. 



great character," said Jack, more cheer- 
fully, — '^President, or something, "What 
do you mean to be, Dick?" 

^'I have not entirely made up my mind," 
replied Richard ; '^ but, if I keep on thinking 
as I do now, I shall study for the ministry." 

"You are just the one," said Jack, ap- 
provingly. ''You are more fit for it now 
than any one I know. I hope you will 
come here and preach." 

''That is looking a long way ahead," 
said Eichard, smiling. "Just think of all 
I shall have to do first, — school two years, 
perhaps, and college four, and then study 
three more. You will be sending steam- 
engines all over the world before that 
time." 

'And you, Sidney, — if you are going to 
be a sailor, as you say sometimes, you will 
not want so much learning." 

"Learning never comes amiss," replied 
Sidney, "whatever one is. ' Can do' is easy 
to carry about, as John says. I expect by 
the time I get to be a commander you will 
build a steam-frigate for me." 

"Then it is really settled, is it?" asked 
Jack. 



PLANS OF LIFE. 441 



'' Yes, I suppose so. Grandfather says 
I must do as I please about it; and I know 
what that is. Only I am to go to school a 
year first, to learn mathematics and astro- 
nomy, and what not. What stories w^e 
shall have to tell one another when we get 
together again, after I have gone round the 
world, perhaps, and you have been away in 
New York, — perhaps even to Europe, to 
learn all about steam-engines, — and Dick 
comes home from college !" 

''Castles in the air, Sidney," said Rich- 
ard. 

"Well,'' replied Sidney, ''they are cheap 
and harmless in this case, at least." 

"And will 3^ou write to us, Jack? We 
shall want very much to hear how you get 
on." 

"I will try, if you want me to," replied 
Jack, evidently much pleased. "But you 
must not expect much : you know I am a 
poor hand at the pen." 

"Nevermind that," saidEichard: "you 
have improved very much ; and every one 
says there is no such good practice as 
writing letters." 



442 A NEW SCHOLAR- 



" Shall you be in Sunday-school next 
-Sunday ?" asked Jack, as they rose to go. 

'^ Yes, I presume so. Why ?" 

"Because you will see a new scholar: 
that's all." 

"Are you going?" asked Richard. "I 
am very glad. You know I always wanted 
you to ; and I am sure you will find it will 
pay.'' 

"I promised Mr. Crediton I would," said 
Jack, " and I have learned my lesson. I 
hope I shall be well enough ; for, once having 
made up my mind, I shall feel rather dis- 
appointed to be kept away." 

Richard mentioned Jack's wishes to his 
grandfather, who promised to further them 
by every means in his power ; but he was 
decidedly of the opinion that Jack should 
go to school at least a year before entering 
upon his apprenticeship. He took occasion 
to visit the saw-mill the same day and talk 
the matter over with the father and son. 
Jack was easily brought to see the advan- 
tages of such a course, — though he could not 
help feeling a little disappointed at having 
his darling scheme put off so long. Mr. Win- 
ston declared his intention of paying for 



A EIGHT SPIRIT. 443 



his board and providing him with books, 
which, as the school was free, would be his 
only expenses. Mr. Short expressed his 
acknowledgment in few but emphatic 
words. Mrs. Short's thanks were rather 
fainter;- and after Mr. Winston had gone 
she told her husband that if that was all 
they could do for Jack, after what lie had 
done for them, they might as well have 
let it alone. 

" That's all I want to have done for me, 
ma," said Jack, good-naturedly. "I only 
want a chance to make my own way. I 
would rather have worked for my board 
than to have had the old gentleman pay 
for it: only it seemed ungracious to refuse." 

''It will give you more time to study," 
observed Mr. Short ; '' and, as your health is 
not as strong as it used to be, perhaps it is 
the best plan. I don't doubt, wife, but 
the boy will make the best of his time and 
be a comfort to us in our old age. I wish 
this one was having as good a chance," he 
added, patting Sarah Anne's head as she sat 
on the steps, sewing. 

" Sarah Anne is a good scholar already, 
father," said Jack. '' She can read as well 



444 SEALS. 

as Richard; and she has been through the 
Rule of Three." 

''She knows enough," said Mrs. Short, 
crossly. " If she half acts up to her know- 
ledge, or you either, you will be better than 
you are." 

''Aunt," said Richard after tea, "cannot 
vve have one more lecture before we go ?" 

"We have finished Carnivora, haven't 
we?" asked Sidney. 

"All the larger species," replied Miss 
Winston ; " but there still remain many of 
the smaller flesh-eating animals, which we 
have not noticed, and which play an im- 
portant part in the economy of nature, such 
as the weasels, the raccoons, the skunks and 
the gluttons. Besides these, there are the 
otters and the seals, which subsist upon 
fish." 

"Those are all very small animals," said 
Sidney. 

"Not all: some of the seals are larger 
than an elephant, and second only to the 
whale in size." 

"Do tell us about them," urged Antoin- 
ette : "it is the last evening we shall have 
by ourselves." (Antoinette was feeling very 



THE WEASEL. 445 



happy at this time, for she had received a let- 
ter from her mother giving her permission 
to stay till Christmas if she wished, on con- 
dition that she should attend to her lessons 
regularly with Miss Taylor and read only 
such books as Aunt Louisa approved, — con- 
ditions she very willing undertook to fulfil. 
Matilda laughed at her, and prophesied 
that she would find it stupid enough and 
be glad to come home long before Christ- 
mas ; but she agreed with her that she got 
on much faster with Miss Taylor than she did 
in school, and that her health was better, 
and, as long as she liked it, perhaps it was 
just as well. It was a sad fact that those 
sisters had very little regard for each other.) 

^'Do, aunt," echoed Daisy: ''I love to 
hear about such little things." 

"I must be very brief, then, and only 
notice one or two of each group. To the 
family of weasels belong the polecat, the 
ferret, (famous for his rat-catching exploits,) 
the ermine, the sable, the mink and the 
marten, — all valuable for the sake of their 
fur. Of these the common weasel is most 
generally known. It is a very small, slender 
animal. The body, v/hich is usually about 



446 THE WEASEL. 



fifteen inches long, is of the same size 
throughout ; and this, with the shortness of 
the limbs, gives it considerable resemblance 
to the snake. Its colour is brownish red 
above and yellowish white underneath, 
having the tail of the same colour as the 
upper parts. It is a very shy and suspicious 
animal; and its watchfulness and caution 
have given rise to the popular proverb, 
' Catch a weasel asleep.' Notwithstanding 
this caution, however, it is as brave as a 
lion, seizing by the throat animals much 
larger than itself and keeping its hold till 
its prey drops from exhaustion. In defence 
of its nest and young it flies without hesi- 
tation at dogs and even at men ; and stories 
have been told of troops of weasels in soli- 
tary places attacking and even killing those 
who ventured into their haunts ; but these 
tales are probably greatly exaggerated. It 
destroys multitudes of rats, mice and moles, 
small birds and chickens, and sucks eggs 
with great relish. The sloat or ermine is a 
variety of the* weasel and hardly to be dis- 
tinguished from it, except from its greater 
size and its turning white in winter. When 
])rown, it is called the sloat,— when white, 



THE ERMINE. 447 



the ermine. It is found very generally all 
over the ISTorthern hemisphere, and is much 
hunted on account of its fur, to obtain 
which uninjured it is shot with blunt arrows 
or trapped. The fur is greatly valued, and in 
its white state is used by kings and other 
great personages as a badge o:^rank." 

^'Why do certain animals turn white in 
cold weather, aunt?" inquired Eichard. ''I 
suppose there must be some good reason 
for it." 

''There is, indeed, a very good reason. 
White substances conduct heat much more 
slowly than black, as has been proved by 
many experiments ; and, as it is important, 
during the intense cold of al^orthern winter," 
to preserve the animal heat as much as pos- 
sible, the Great Father of all clothes the 
little creature in a snowy garment." 

''I should think there might be another 
reason," observed Annie, — ''in preventing 
animals from being so conspicuous as they 
would be if they travelled over the snow 
in their dark clothing." 

"Very probably 'it may be so," replied 
Miss Winston. " The Arctic fox, the bear ' 
and many birds are examples of this kind 



448 THE ICHNEUMON. 



of transformation. A number of the smaller 
animals, many of which are valued for their 
fur, belong to the same class as the weasel, 
such as the marten, — of which there are 
several varieties, — the sable and the mink. 
All of these have the same general charac- 
teristics as the weasel. They are all carni- 
vorous, but do comparatively little injury 
to the property of man, wdiile they often 
render him very great service hj destroying 
rats and mice, snakes and other vermin. 

" The next class w^e shall consider is that 
of the viverridae, some of which seem to be 
allied to the cats by the form of their claws 
and feet. They have the tongue covered, 
like that of the cat, with hard sharp points ; 
their claws are somewhat retracted in walk- 
ing ; they stand low upon their feet, and 
all have under the tail a pouch containing 
a greasy matter, which has often a very 
powerful odour. The most remarkable ani- 
mal of this class is, perhaps, the ichneumon. 
This was one of the sacred animals of the 
ancient Egyptians, and was treated by them 
with great veneration : funds were set apart 
for its maintenance during life, and, like 
the sacred cats, it was carefully fed upon 



THE ICHNEUMON. 449 



bread soaked in milk, and minced fisli, and 
after death its body was embalmed with 
great ceremony. It lives upon eggs, fowls, 
birds and other small animals, but has a 
peculiar propensity for destroying reptiles, 
to which, probably, it owed its distinction. 
Some species will readily enter into conflict 
with the most venomous snakes ; and, though 
it may receive many severe bites in the 
battle, it is never seriously injured. It has 
been observed that when the animal is 
bitten it retreats with great quickness for 
a moment, and then returns to the charge ; 
and it is believed that during this absence 
it finds and eats some herb which acts as 
an antidote to the poison ; but its motions 
are so exceedingly rapid that the plant — if 
plant it is — has never been discovered. 

^^ Many marvellous stories were formerly 
told about the Egyptian ichneumon, — as that 
it watched the crocodile, and, seizing the 
opportunity when the reptile opened its 
jaws, it sprung down its mouth, slid down 
its throat and destroyed the reptile by 
eating through its side. It is needless to 
say that this is a mere fable : nevertheless, 
the ichneumon is very destructive to the 



450 THE SKUNK. 



young of the crocodile as well as to its eggs, 
which it searches for and eats with great 
eagerness, thus rendering an essential ser- 
vice to the inhabitants of the valley of the 
Nile. 

"We now come to a class of plantigrade 
animals which contains some of the most 
odious of the four-footed family ; and, as a 
near acquaintance with them is not desirable, 
we will merely glance at them in passing. 
The first genus is called Mephites ; and the 
name is given them on account of their 
strong, penetrating and disgusting odour. 
To this genus belongs the common skunk. 
It is rather a pretty creature, with a modest 
livery of black and white, and a long and 
elegantly-fringed tail; and a person unac- 
quainted with the animal, seeing it at a 
distance, might probably desire a nearer 
view. Should he approach, however, he 
would have cause to repent of his curiosity ; 
for the skunk is provided with a pouch • 
containing a liquid of the most abominable 
smell and penetrating quality, which it can 
throw to some distance. Every article upon 
which this liquid falls is rendered forever 
useless, as no pains of cleaning or washing 



THE RATEL. 451 



can destroy the smell. The skunk lives 
upon birds, eggs, small reptiles and mice ; 
it also eats insects, and is fond of honey and 
other sweets. It is said that when kept 
long in captivity the offensive smell nearly 
or quite disappears." 

"I think it is the last animal I should 
choose for a pet," said Sidney. ^^It would 
be worse than old Mrs. Dolan's pet pig." 

'' In the genus Eira, which we shall next 
notice," continued Miss Winston, "we shall 
find two quite remarkable animals, — namely, 
the honey-ratel and the glutton. The 
honey-ratel is about two feet in length, 
shaped like a badger, with very harsh coarse 
fur, and a skin so tough that the stings of 
the bee& seem to make no impression upon 
it. It feeds upon all kinds of animal sub- 
stances, and has been accused of making 
deep galleries leading into the graves of 
men, in order that it may devour the bodies ; 
but its favourite feast consists of honey and 
bees. It has sufficient sense or instinct to 
act in concert with the honey-guide. This 
bird shows the way to the nest, w4iich the 
ratel scratches open by means of his power- 
ful claws, and the confederates make an 



452 THE GLUTTON. 



amicable division of the spoils. If the bird 
cannot find the ratel, it will invite the at- 
tention of the passing traveller, and, leading 
him to the nest, will patiently await his 
share of the booty, which is the comb con- 
taining the young bees. The colours of the 
ratel are gray upon the back and dark 
brown or black underneath. 

^' The gulo or glutton is a small quadruped, 
found only in high latitudes, as in Canada, 
Sweden and Poland. It is a handsome 
animal, with a head somewhat like a dog's, 
short, round ears, the body covered wdth a 
fine, soft fur, generally of a chestnut colour, 
but having a white band on the forehead, 
throat and breast. The fore-feet and part 
of the tail are black, and a deep-brown 
patch covers part of the back and loins. 
The glutton is one of the fiercest animals 
known, and its energy of purpose and 
action are truly wonderful. Possessed of 
the keenest sense of smell, he is able to de- 
tect food buried at great depths, and thus 
discovers the caches, or concealed depots 
of provisions, belonging to the hunters. 
When they find one of these caches, they 
labour with wonderful energy and skill to 



THE GLUTTON. 453 



dig it up and remove the contents, in doing 
which they taint the provisions so that no 
other animal will touch them. They are 
also very annoying to the marten-trappers, 
following their trail round a circuit of forty 
or fifty miles, and extracting the bait from 
the traps, which they do by opening them 
from behind. Should a marten be found in 
the trap, they never fail to tear it in pieces 
or bury it in the snow at some distance from 
the trap. They are, as may be imagined, not 
very popular with the hunters, to whom they 
do so much damage ; and many eiibrts are 
made to destroy them, but without much 
success, as they. are too cautious to be often 
shot, and no trap is of any avail, as they 
begin behind and tear it to pieces even 
when substantially built of logs." 

"I hope the glutton's skin is good for 
something when they do get it," observed 
Richard. 

"It is, unfortunately, worth very little, and 
does not at all compensate for their destruc- 
tive habits. But the most wonderful story 
remains to be told. It is said that the glutton 
sometimes ascends a tree, carrying in its 
mouth a quantity of lichen, which it drops 



454 THE GLUTTON. 



under a projecting branch. It then lies 
down, crouched and motionless, waiting 
patiently for a deer to pass. The animal, 
not suspecting the neighbourhood of his 
enemy, stoops to smell the moss, thus leav- 
ing his neck unprotected by his horns. As 
quick as lightning the glutton drops from 
his perch upon the shoulders of the deer, 
where, holding on by its strong and sharp 
claws, it pierces the blood-vessels with its 
strong canine-teeth and there hangs till the 
poor animal falls exhausted. Should there 
be a deep stream or pond near at hand, the 
deer always takes to it, and thus dislodges 
his enemy, who has a great dread of water." 

'' Do you believe that story, aunt?" asked 
Annie. 

"It has been disputed by later travellers, 
I know," replied her aunt. \^ But, as Colonel 
Smith observes, they are those who have 
little or no direct knowledge of these ani- 
mals in woody regions, and reason from 
their habits in the open, stony tracts. The 
story is very generally believed by hunters 
In America, in Siberia and Sweden ; and I 
am inclined to imagine that it must have 
some foundation in truth. There is, to my 



THE EACCOOX. 455 



mind, nothing more wonderful in it than in 
the fact that the animal has sufficient saga- 
city to open a trap from behind, so as to ex- 
tract the bait without injury to himself." 

'' Beavers can do that," remarked Sidney. 
''1 read in 'Captain Bonneville' that the 
beaver sometimes springs the trap with a 
stick, and at other times pulls it into the 
water and buries it in the sand." 

'' Animals which are much hunted ac- 
quire a great degree of sagacity," observed 
Miss Winston, '' and do certainly appear 
to go through a mental process very much 
like reasoning. Many instances might be 
given had we time ; but I see the evening is 
wearing apace, and, as it is the last we can 
devote to our lectures, I am anxious to give 
you at least a general view of the ground 
we have not yet gone over. The raccoons 
and the coatis are nearly allied to the bears, 
and are often classed with them. They are 
found, the former in North the latter in 
South America, and are very generally dif- 
fused. The raccoon is of a dark-grayish 
colour, the separate hairs being tinged with 
different colours. The face is whitish and 
the tail ringed with brownish black. They 



456 THE RACCOON. 



have a sharp muzzle, with intelligent, 
piercing eyes, a robust figure and rather 
slender limbs. They devour birds' eggs, 
fruit, and, in fact, almost every thing 
that comes in their way, and are very fond 
of dipping their food in water. They are 
easily domesticated and become very tame 
and playful." 

^'Besides being very mischievous," said 
Richard. '^ Mr. Barton had one which was 
as full of tricks as any monkey, and a ter- 
rible thief. Once they got the pies ready 
for Thanksgiving : you know Mrs. Barton 
is famous for pies " 

'•I do," interrupted Sidney. 

''Well, her pies were all made and ar- 
ranged on a shelf in the pantry ready for 
dinner, and when Mrs. Barton came home 
from church she thought she would look in 
to see that all was right. The first thing 
she saw as she opened the door was master 
coon's tail vanishing through the window. 
He had dug a round hole in the centre of 
every pie and had served several loaves of 
cake in the same way." 

"How provoking!" said Antoinette. 
'' What did she do to him ?" 




Coatimcndi. 




The Otter. 



p. 457. 



THE RACCOON. 457 



" That was what I asked her. ' Oh,' she 
said, ^I gave him what was left of them 
and took care to keep him chained up after 
that. There was no use in quarrellino; with 
him.'" 

"Well/' said Antoinette, " I should like 
to. have such a disposition. She does not 
look as if any thing could put her out." 

"She has indeed a most lovely temper," 
said Miss Winston; ^'but she has attained 'it 
through much painful discipline and many 
trials. 

"There are two or three varieties of 
raccoons, one of which subsists almost en- 
tirely upon crabs and shell-fish. The coatis 
are in many respects similar to the raccoons, 
but have the nose very large and movable, 
which gives them an odd expression of 
countenance. They live principally upon 
trees, but come down to the ground to 
search for earth-worms, which they dig up 
with the snout, rooting like the pio^. 
Some species live in families of fifteen or 
sixteen together; others are quite solitary. 
One species has obtained the name of 
guarpi, or merry Andrew, from his ludi- 
crously meddling, active, climbing habits 

39 



458 THE OTTER. 



when in captivity. The coatimondi, on the 
contrary, is very quiet and sedate, and seems 
to possess more intellect than his volatile 
brother. At the same time, he has not so 
good a temper, and is apt to avenge him- 
self for real or fancied affronts. All the 
coatis have a strong, disagreeable smell. 

'' We must now give a few moments to 
otters and seals, — w^hich will finish our lec- 
ture. They are both amphibious animals, 
and the latter spends most of its time m 
the water. The river otter is deep brown, 
wdth grayish or brownish white upon the 
head and breast. The head is wide and 
flat, the eyes small, the ears small and 
round and capable of being partially closed. 
The legs are verj^ thick, the legs very short, 
muscular and flexible; the feet have five 
sharp-clawed toes, with membranes between 
them ; the tail is very long and muscular and 
probably assists the animal in swimming. 
The fur is short, glossy and thick. The 
otter lives almost entirely upon fish. It is 
sometimes accused of killing young lambs ; 
but the story is not very probable. It runs 
upon land with tolerable speed ; but it is in 
the water that its agility is best displayed. 



THE OTTER. 459 



It swims as fast as a fish, generally horizon- 
tally under the surface of the water, and can 
remain immersed a long time without in- 
convenience. When it catches a fish, it 
brings its prey to land to devour it, which 
it does from the shoulders dowm, leaving 
the head and tail. The otter has been 
tamed and taught to fish for its master; and 
Bishop Heber in his travels saw quite a 
number of tame otters which were em- 
ployed to drive fish into the nets. They 
were fastened by strings and collars to 
stakes in the river-bank, and seemed to 
enjoy their lives amazingly. The otter 
becomes very much attached to those that 
treat it with kindness, but greatly resents 
any liberties taken with it by the inferior 
animals. Contrary to the habit of most 
quadrupeds, it has no objection to being 
lifted by the tail, but does not like to Imve 
its nose meddled with. The sea-otter is 
larger than the land-otter, being about four 
feet in length. It is clothed entirely in fine, 
deep, glossy fur of a chestnut colour, except 
the head, w^iich is often white. It is a very 
bold swimmer, troops of them having been 
seen three hundred miles out at sea, and 



460 THE SEAL. 



when ill the water it performs many antics, 
often balancing itself erect and holding its 
paw over its eyes, as if to look about it. It 
is found in the N'orthern Pacific Ocean, and 
has sometimes been called the sea-ape." 

''Is it not possible," said Miss /Taylor, 
'' that this or some similar animal may have 
given rise to the stories of mermen and 
mermaids?" 

'' It is not unlikely," replied Miss "Winston, 
— '' although those tales have been gene- 
rally applied to the seal ; and there is really 
something very human in the round heads 
and beautiful ejes of those creatures." 

''How large is a seal?" asked Daisy. 

" They are of various sizes, from the 
elephant-seal, which attains the length of 
twenty to thirty feet and is sixteen feet 
in circumference, and the walrus, larger 
than the largest bull, to the common seal, 
which measures usually from five to six 
feet. In general, they are harmless to man, 
and, in places where they have not been 
taught caution by ill-treatment, even 
friendly. A gentleman who resided a long 
time in the Hebrides saj^s of them, ' When 
my pupils and I were bathing, — which we 



THE SEAL. 461 



frequently did in a beautiful bay of the 
island called Seal Bay, — numbers of these 
creatures invariably made their appearance, 
especially if the weather was calm and 
sunny and the sea smooth, crowding around 
us at the distance of a few yards, and 
looking on as if they had some kind of 
notion that we were of the same genus with 
themselves. The gambols in the water of 
my playful companions, and their noise and 
merriment, seemed to excite them, and 
made them course round us with greater 
rapidity and animation.' The same gentle- 
man says, ' In walking along the shore, of 
a calm and sunny afternoon, a few notes of 
my flute would bring half a score of them 
within thirty or forty yards of me, and there 
they would swim about with their heads 
above water, like so many black dogs, evi- 
dently delighted with the sound. I have 
frequently noted the same efiect when on a 
boating-excursion. The sound of a com- 
mon fife, blown by one of the boatmen, 
was no sooner heard than half a dozen 
would start up within a few yards, wheeling 
round as long as the music played, and dis- 

39^ 



462 THE SEAL. 



appearing one after the other when it 
ceased.' 

'^But, while they are thus confident and 
friendly under favourable circumstances, 
they soon learn distrust and defiance; 
and in places where they are liable to be 
molested they constantly place one of their 
number to act as a sentinel and give warning 
of danger, — so that it becomes very difficult 
to surprise a herd of them. Many species — 
especially the walrus — are very helpful to 
each other, and if one is wounded the 
others will rally round him, and often suc- 
ceed in rescuing him from his persecutors. 
Those species which practise polygamy, how- 
ever, have furious battles among themselves, 
in which many are killed and wounded. 

''The general food of the seal is fish, — 
though they sometimes eat sea-weed and 
other vegetables ; and they have an extra- 
ordinary habit of devouring large stones, 
sometimes the size of a man's fist. It has 
been said that during the time when the fe- 
males remain on shore for the purpose of 
bringing forth and suckling their young, 
they abstain entirely from food for six weeks 
or even longer. The males also keep very 



THE SEAL. 463 



long fasts, during the course of which they 
become very thin and weak. 

''The body of the seal is wonderfully 
adapted to the kind of life it leads, ap- 
proaching as it does the form of the fish. 
The fore-legs are very short, destitute of a 
collar-bone, and entirely hidden in the skin 
of the body, except the wrists and hands, 
the fingers of which are webbed and very 
powerful. The hind-legs are placed not at 
right angles, but parallel with the body : the 
feet alone have the power of motion, and 
are very strong and flexible. 

" Seals are easily domesticated, and 
show considerable docility and great aflfec- 
tion for their friends. They have been 
taught a variety of feats ; and one, at least, 
learned a trick for himself. A falling-ofif 
having been observed in the milk of the 
cows, it was finally discovered that master 
seal, being fond of that beverage, was in 
the habit of visiting the cowhouse and help- 
ing himself. A marbled seal, which lived 
in the Jardin des Plantes at Paris, formed 
an attachment for two small dogs kept in 
the same enclosure with it. They would 
mount upon its back, bark at, and even 



4G4 THE SEAL. 



bite ; but it never retaliated, except to tease 
them by slight blows of its flippers. It 
shared its food with thera, and readily al- 
lowed them to take fish out of its mouth." 

''Cannot you tell us any more stories 
about them, aunt?" said Antoinette, as 
Miss "Winston paused. 

''I could easily occupy another hour," 
said Aunt Louisa ; " but it is growing late. 
However, if there are any points upon which 
you particularly desire information and 
upon which I have not touched, I will en- 
deavour to enlighten you." 

"I was going to ask about their young 
ones," said Daisy. ''Are they fond of 
them?" 

"Extremely so. They will fight despe- 
rately in their defence, and will not leave 
their cubs even when dead, snatching them 
out of the sailors' hands, diving with them, 
and then bringing them to the surface in 
their arms, as if trying to restore them to 
life. The male sea-bear is very fierce in 
protecting his ofispring, and if any one at- 
tempt to take the cub they stand on the 
defensive, and the mother carries it oft' in 
her mouth. Should she happen to drop it, 



THE SEAL. 465 



the male instantly quits the enemy, falls 
upon her, and beats her against the stones 
till he leaves her for dead. As soon as she 
recovers she crawls to his feet and bedews 
them with her tears, while he keeps stalking 
about in the most insolent manner; but if 
the cub be carried oif he melts likewise, 
sheds tears, and shows every mark of deep 
sorrow." 

" I should think he might better take it 
himself, if he is so very fond of it," remarked 
Sidney, ''instead of beating his poor wife." 

" He is not sufficiently civilized for that," 
said Miss Winston. ''You may observe it 
to be the case among savages in general 
that the w^omen do all the work; and it is 
only as he advances in civilization that the 
man takes his true place as support and 
provider." 

" And is that all, aunt ? Cannot we have 
a little more?" 

" That must be all, Sidney." 

"Well," said Annie, "I had no idea that 
animals could be made so interesting. I 
am sure we are all very much obliged to 
you, aunt." 

" When you come to make Natural His- 



466 THE SEAL. 



tory a study," observed Miss Winston, ''you 
will find that what I have told you is only 
a very faint shadowing forth of the wonders 
which are to be found in its pages. No 
writer of Arabian tales or fairy stories ever 
imagined beings so wonderful, so beautiful 
and so fantastic as thousands of what are 
called the lower orders of the Animal King- 
dom. Their numbers are beyond all calcu- 
lation ; their varieties exceed belief; yet 
every one is perfect in its kind, and provi- 
sion is made for the wants of each in that 
element wherein it abides. From the ele- 
phant and the lion to the insect upon the 
rose-leaf and the little infusoria which light 
up the waters of the ocean, no microscope 
can detect any imperfection ; but the further 
the researches of science are pushed the 
more cause does the naturalist see to glorify 
and adore Him who made the sea and all 
that therein is, — the earth and they that 
dwell thereon." 

''I think," said Richard, "that the study 
of Natural History, when properly pursued, 
must make people humane towards ani- 
mals." 

" That is undoubtedly the proper efiect 



THE SEAL. 467 



of such pursuits," replied Miss Winston; 
" and it is plainly to be seen both in the 
works and actions of the greatest naturalists. 
It is impossible to study the beauty and in- 
tricacy of the machinery of living creatures, 
and observe the pains — if we may reverently 
so speak — which has been bestowed upon 
their formation, without feeling a repug- 
nance to wantonly destroying these wonder- 
ful organizations. Above all must we learn 
to reverence the wonderful and mysterious 
principle of life, which no man can give, 
which defies the closest research of the wisest 
sages, and which forms the grand distinction 
between organized and unorganized bodies." 

^^ You must have taken a great deal of 
pains. Aunt Louisa, to get so many facts 
and anecdotes together," said Matilda, as if 
struck by a new thought. '^I am sure you 
never found them all in one book." 

"Not in one, nor in twenty," replied Miss 
Winston. ''It has, indeed, cost me many 
hours of labour to bring together and ar- 
range the materials of these simple lectures 
to which you have been listening through 
the last few weeks. I have, after all, given 
you but a glimpse of the rich and varied 



468 THE SEAL. 



domain of Natural History ; but, if I shall 
have succeeded in so interesting you as to 
induce you to pursue the investigation for 
yourselves in other directions and more at 
length, — above all, if I have once led you to 
turn your eyes from His works to Him who 
giveth to the beast his food and to the 
3^oung ravens which cry, whose is the earth 
and the fulness thereof, the round world 
and they that dwell therein, — I shall be 
amply rewarded. And so, my dear children, 
may God bless you all, and bring us together 
again, if not to teach and learn of each 
other, yet in his presence, where is fulness 
of joy, and at his right hand^ where are 
pleasures for evermore !'' 




^HE END. 



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